


The Huntress

by etoile_etiolee



Series: Lullaby Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 100,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoile_etiolee/pseuds/etoile_etiolee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time, Sam and Dean thought they knew what they were in for, but this pregnancy quickly becomes much more complicated than the first one. Dealing with incomprehensible symptoms, taking care of Sumiko and seeking answers, they'll have to face something that will jeopardize their quiet and domestic life.</p>
<p>Disclaimer: Not mine.  No profits made.</p>
<p>This is the final story in the Lullaby Verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

[ ](http://etoile-etiolee.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/354/16161)

_Prologue_

“SAM!”

Sam jerked awake, sitting up in bed before he even knew what was going on. He thought he’d heard his name. Thought he’d heard Dean screaming for him.

Rubbing at his face, he realised he was alone in bed. The house was perfectly quiet.

“Dean?” He called, but received no answer.

He got up, sheets tangled around his legs, and almost face planted there. Finding his balance, he walked out of the room to have a look around their house, starting with Sumiko’s nursery. Her room was silent, except for the occasional soft snores and snuffling noises coming from the crib. He closed the door back carefully.

“Dean?” He called again and only realised then that the bathroom light was open.

He froze on the threshold at the sight before his eyes. Dean was holding the counter with one hand, his other arm wrapped around his stomach. His naked body was covered in sweat, his face a pasty white and his eyes shining with a wild expression. He was slightly hunched over himself and, at first, Sam had no idea of what was going on.

“What-“

Dean pointed a shaking finger at him, revealing the lower part of his stomach. Something was wrong, there were…

_Shit_ , Sam thought.

Symbols engraved in the skin, red and swollen. He recognised them immediately. Hell, how could he not?

“You got me pregnant again, you bastard!” Dean growled.

Then, his eyes rolled in their sockets and he fainted. Sam caught him just before his head hit the floor.

::: :::

_Hampton Falls, December 16_

Sam waited until seven o’clock that morning before calling Rania. She answered on the first ring with the usual salutation she reserved just for the Winchesters.

“What’s going on, Sam?”

He cleared his throat. In her swing, Sumiko smiled at him and regurgitate a big gob of formula milk. 

“I have a favor to ask you. Dean is… There’s something up with him and I need someone to take care of Sumiko and huh-“

“Is he sick? Can I do something?”

“Yeah, but no. I mean, he saw a doctor; he has tonsillitis and he’s really sick, like… he has a high fever and blisters in the back of his throat and…”

“Okay,” Rania didn’t insist, for which Sam was glad. “Hey, here’s an idea. If you don’t want to leave Dean alone, I could come get Sumiko.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t…”

“It’s my pleasure, Sam. My only thing I want to do today is to decorate my Christmas Tree. Think Sumiko will enjoy that?”

“Yeah, she will. But-“

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

Rania hung up, leaving Sam speechless but relieved. They had to get a regular baby-sitter. This was getting ridiculous.

“You’ll spend the day with Rania,” he told Sumiko as he cleared her chin. She fought and groaned and wined. She wasn’t in a good mood that morning and Sam knew damn well what the reason for that was. Dean wasn’t in a good mood either – an understatement, really - and Sumiko was more than ever in touch with her father’s moods and feelings. He would have to talk to Dean about that, eventually. Sam didn’t even know if Dean realised it. Anyway, they had more pressing matters right now.

He calmed Sumiko with her pacifier and climbed the stairs to have a look at Dean one more time.

His brother had been out of it since Sam had found him in the bathroom. He was burning up with fever, sometimes even to the point of being delirious, sleeping on and off and never waking up completely. If it had been the first time this had happened, Sam would’ve been seriously worried about it.

But this was exactly what had happened a little more than a year ago. Dean had been out of it for twenty-four hours after being cursed and, just like this time, Sam couldn’t tell what was the result of the curse and what was Dean’s illness manifesting itself. A head cold, tonsillitis. A curse that Sam had been too stupid to think of countering after Sumiko had been born.

Dean had never been freed of Hannah McPherson’s curse. That much is now clear. It must have remained dormant until the right conditions had been once again been present. It needed Sam’s semen, of course, but Sam thought it was more than that. Dean had given up control to Sam. He hadn’t been feeling well and was more vulnerable and open than usual. The sex had been intense.

God, had it been…

Dean was still sleeping, tucked into a ball on his side. He barely moved when Sam laid the back of his hand on his forehead. It was still hot, but less than last night. The meds Sam had given him around four in the morning looked like they were working.

Sam carefully pulled the comforter down and tried to have a peek at Dean’s stomach, but both of his arms were wrapped tightly around it. Wincing, Sam pulled one up, getting Dean to startle and groan, pushing him away. 

It had been enough to see that the symbols were still there, even if the redness of the skin seemed to have receded. 

“Burns…” Dean mumbled, his eyes opening to slits.

“I know. It’s going to get better, Dean,” Sam said softly, brushing his fingers through Dean’s damp hair.

There wasn’t much he could do right now, not until Rania came to pick up Sue. Sam had spent the night researching when he hadn’t been taking care of Dean, and he had a couple of solutions in mind. He had found a general counter-spell that was very powerful when used in the first twenty-four hours following the beginning of the curse. He needed to make a couple of adjustments and to find all the ingredients, but he was pretty confident it would work.

If that was what they both wanted. They couldn’t have another baby. Sumiko was a miracle. Dean had almost died giving birth to her. Sam had never told him how bad it had been after Sumiko was born, how Rania had worked to stop the curse from killing him.

Sam remembered too well.

Besides, how would they explain the appearance of a new baby? How would they hide Dean’s pregnancy…

Sam ignored the dull throb of sadness in his heart. He just couldn’t ask that from Dean. It wasn’t reasonable.

That’s what he told himself while he packed Sumiko’s stuff, cleaned the kitchen and entertained his grumpy daughter while waiting for Rania. Like a mantra, like he would convince himself if he repeated it enough times. He had Sue and Dean. He was lucky enough as it was.

Rania didn’t stay long, just long enough for Sam to strap the baby seat in the car and dress Sue in her winter suit. Sumiko tried to stay grumpy but couldn’t resist giving her most adorable smile to Rania. She went into her arms willingly, not even looking back at her father.

Then, it was time. Sam had to take care of Dean.

“Dean? Hey, Dean, come on, you gotta wake up.”

Dean shook his head like a stubborn kid and Sam had to insist until he had no other choice than to rub his knuckles over his sternum. Dean let out a hoarse cry and rose immediately on his elbows.

“Sam, what the hell?”

“How’re you feeling?”

Dean rubbed his eyes lazily. He still wasn’t all there, Sam could tell. 

“My throat hurts,” Dean grumbled, “And huh… Dude, I feel strange. It’s like…"

Then a light seemed to pass over his eyes and he lowered his head toward his uncovered stomach where the symbols had started to fade to the point where they could hardly be seen.

“Oh, fuck. I thought maybe… I had dreamed it or something.”

“Yeah… no, Dean.”

Dean looked completely awake, now. He let out a long string of curses and fell back on the bed, covering his face with his hands.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I never stopped to think maybe the curse could still be on you somehow, dormant. I should’ve…”

“Don’t be stupid,” Dean cut him off in a muffled voice. “It’s not your fault. I never thought about it either.”

He started coughing, then, and Sam had to help him sit up so that he could breathe easier. Dean’s head fell forward onto Sam’s shoulder as he tried to get some air into his lungs, then he started shaking, and Sam knew it wasn’t just the sickness.

“Hey, come on, you’re okay.”

“You know damn well I’m not,” Dean whispered. “Fuck, Sam. I can’t… I can’t do it all over again. I… we can’t…”

Sam started talking, then, keeping his voice as low and soothing as possible, telling him all about the counter-curse and how it would probably work if they did it soon. After a while, Dean stopped shaking and propped himself against his pillow, his eyes still burning with fever but clearer that they had been in hours.

“Like a supernatural abortion,” he said with a miserable lopsided smile.

“Don’t think about it that way, Dean. Curse reversal. And after everything is done, I’ll make sure the curse is gone for good.”

“Well, you can play with the words all you want, but we both know we made a baby last night and now we’re going to get rid of it.”

“Dean, if you don’t-“

“We can’t, Sam, okay? We can’t. Sue’s still so young and it… it doesn’t make any sense. Just. Let’s get it over with, okay?”

“Gotta go out to buy some stuff, then we’ll do it.”

Dean cleared his throat and coughed harshly. “Yeah, I’ll take care of Sue and-“

“No. No need. She’s with Rania.”

“What? You didn’t tell Rania, did you?”

“No. Just told her you were sick. Had to take care of you. I want you to stay in bed while I’m gone. Try to get some more sleep.”

Dean frowned, but laid down obediently. It was easy to see that he could barely keep himself awake. Sam made sure he took his round of meds, then went out in the cold to buy some candles and herbs.

::: :::

Of course, Dean didn’t listen to him. When Sam got back, he had showered and was waiting for him in the living room, a cup of coffee between his hands, pale, with deep dark circles under his eyes and a grimace of pain on his mouth. Still, it wasn’t probably the best moment to point out that he should have stayed put.

“Need some help?” Dean asked simply.

“No. It’s very simple. Give me an hour.”

Sam worked fast. They could do it in the kitchen. Once the concoction was ready, all Dean had to do was to drink it as Sam recited a simple spell in Latin. He placed the candles and mixed the herbs, concentrating on what he was doing instead of the dark thoughts that continued to shoot through his mind. Supernatural abortion. What an ugly expression.

“Dean?” He called once he was done. 

His brother joined him with slow, uneasy footsteps. He took a look at the table and frowned, stopping dead on the spot.

“Dean, what?”

“Okay, no. I can’t go through with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I can’t!” Dean yelled. “I fucking can’t, Sam! Damn it!”

He swayed on his feet and started to cough. Sam tried to grab him by the arm but Dean pushed him away so hard he lost his balance. He stepped back clumsily until his back hit the refrigerator, then let himself slide down to the floor, still coughing in the crook of his arms, eyes rimmed red and face flushed.

Sam filled a glass of water and crouched besides him, handling it to him without saying a word or trying to touch him.

Dean finally stopped coughing and downed the glass of water, holding it with both hands. A few drops slid down his chin. He didn’t seem to realise it.

“I’m so fucked up,” he whispered in a barely audible voice. “I… whatever this is, I mean… It barely exists and I’m sitting in the living room with my coffee and all I can think about is that it’s not good for the baby.”

“Okay,” Sam sat down next to Dean, crossing his legs. 

“And then I’m thinking about Sue and what if we had decided to… you know, get rid of her… And it’s stupid, I know, and the only logical thing to do is this counter-curse thing, but I can’t.”

“Well, then don’t,” Sam said softly.

Dean let out a sad little laugh and looked at Sam, eyebrow raised. “Really? I mean, you do realise that our life has just gotten a whole hell of a lot more complicated, right? And what are we gonna tell people? Hell, screw that, how are we supposed to deal with another pregnancy?”

“We’ll deal.”

“Fuck, Sam.”

Dean sighed and banged his head softly against the refrigerator door, closing his eyes. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

Sam knew. He knew the risks all too well, but he couldn’t help but feel an incredible sense of relief coursing through his veins. And the darkness that had seemed to be taking hold of his mind was gone. He wanted this. Another baby. Despite everything.

“She won’t be alone.” He murmured.

“What?”

“Sue. She’ll never be alone. She’ll have a brother or a sister.”

“Sam, I can’t put you though this all over again,” Dean protested, but the anger and anxiety were gone from his voice and he was looking straight at him.

“Dean. Can I be a little sappy?”

“Oh jesus.”

“Hey. I’m entitled.”

“Under what pretense?”

“My brother’s pregnant with my child.”

Dean grimaced.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. The way you handled things last time… It made me so freaking proud. You’re the strongest person I know. You’re a terrific father and you’re my brother and I love you so much. I’m ready to go through anything with you.”

Dean was now a deep shade of red and looking at the floor. He shivered. 

“So, now what?”

“Now? We deal with it.”

“This is so messed up.”

“I know, but hey, we’re freaks. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Sam bumped shoulders with Dean as his brother smiled hesitantly. And that was that. They were starting all over again.

::: :::

[ ](http://etoile-etiolee.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/354/16554)

_Portland, December 24_

Rania Suleiman was holding the pregnancy test, staring at it like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“So,” she started, then closed her mouth.

Sumiko wiggled in Sam’s arms and tried to catch the woman’s attention by screaming and smiling at the same time.

Dean’s face was beet red and he was looking down at his feet.

“So,” Sam said, speaking loud enough to cover Sumiko’s babbling. It startled her for about half a second before she went on with her little show.

“The curse has remained on Dean since Sumiko’s birth?”

“That’s the only explanation.”

“When did… what happened exactly? Was this the first time you guys…”

Dean cleared his throat and mumbled something about Sam being the usual bottom in their relationship. Sam would’ve protested if he hadn’t been busy trying to stop Sue from grabbing a clump of his hair in her chubby fist.

“Okay, so, basically, you had sexual intercourse with Dean being on the receiving end and the symbols of the curse reappeared.”

“Basically. I thought I could use a counter-curse, you know, because now I have some idea of what we’re dealing with, but huh… we couldn’t go through with it,” Sam said, starting to feel as embarrassed as Dean.

“When did this happen?”

“December fifteenth.”

Rania’s pretty eyes widened.

“So the whole _Dean-isn’t-feeling-well_ thing…”

“We needed some time to sort this out.”

“Ooo-kay.”

Rania took a pen and played with it for a while. Dean looked like he was about to melt in his chair. “Why did you wait until now?”

“We wanted to be sure. The pregnancy tests kept coming back negative, probably because it was too early. This one we did yesterday. So…”

Rania suddenly seemed to snap out of her stupor and grabbed something from her desk – the cardboard wheel she’d used to find Dean’s due date the first time.

“Dean… your baby is going to be born around September seventh.”

“Jesus,” Dean rasped because apparently, he’d just now realised what was happening to him. It was too soon for the morning sickness, too soon for any kind of symptoms, and he’d been shocked when the fourth pregnancy test he’d taken that week finally turned positive. To tell the truth, Sam himself had started to doubt the whole thing.

There was a long moment of silence. Even Sumiko looked at everybody, wondering what the hell was going on.

Dean cleared his throat and looked Rania in the eyes. “Listen, Rania, I know we’re fucked-up. I know this wasn’t the wisest decision to make and we don’t have the right to ask so much of you again. And I’m sorry, I really am. If you prefer to stay out of it, we’ll deal.” 

How would they deal exactly, Sam had no idea.

“Come on, Dean,” Rania said, her professional mask back in place. “I won’t abandon you guys to this… supernatural pregnancy. Of course, I’ll take care of you and the baby. I’m just worried, you know. Things were pretty rough last time, especially after the birth. At least we know what to expect this time and I could probably work on a combination of meds to slow things down when the curse starts to go wild after the delivery…”

Rania kept on talking, and Sam thought: _here we are, starting all over again_ , feeling a mix of apprehension and excitement swelling in his chest.

::: :::

They decided that Sumiko deserved a Christmas, although she wouldn’t remember it. They had just finished moving into their new house in Freeport and didn’t have a lot of time to work on it, but Sam bought a small tree and some Christmas lights. It stood proudly in the living room and Sumiko never tired of looking at the blinking lights with an expression of wonder on her face.

On Christmas morning, there was only one present under the tree, overloaded with bows and ribbons, the paper glistening in a green and red pattern of squares and dots. Dean had thought that as young as she was, Sue would probably be way more interested by the wrapping than by the gift itself and had gone over the top with it.

They were short on money, and both brothers had agreed not to buy each other any gifts. Dean had put looking for a job on hold since they’d found out about the pregnancy and Sam’s technician salary was barely enough to cover their everyday expenses. Luckily, the house had come with some pieces of furniture and kitchen accessories –there was even a linen closet filled to capacity with towels and sheets. Still, they couldn’t permit themselves anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary, and all they could do was hope that no unplanned expenses came their way.

The whole thing was stressing Dean, Sam knew, but neither of them talked about it. It was like they had decided to put everything on hold until they were sure about the new baby coming. And now they were.

When Sam awoke that morning a little after seven, Dean was already up. He could hear Sue giggling from her room next to theirs on the first floor of the house.

It had snowed again during the night, Sam realised, looking out the window. The landscape was astonishing; everything was white except for the ocean. Violent dark waves were crashing on the shore, tumbling and colliding one against the other.

Home. This was their home.

Sam went to find Dean who was putting Sue in a fresh diaper. A very heavy smell hung in the room, coming from a dirty diaper wrapped up in a plastic bag.

“Jesus,” Sam groaned.

“Yeah, she outdid herself this time,” Dean said in a gruff voice.

Sue smiled and wiggled her legs.

“Bet it feels good to be cleaned up, doesn’t it, monkey?” Dean added. “Sam, grab me the pajamas over there.”

Dean had chosen Sumiko’s newest set of pajamas. They were fire engine red, with small green and white stripes. Of course, Dean would never admit they had been especially bought for Christmas, but Sam knew better. He grabbed the soft piece of cloth and handled it to Dean just in time to see his brother’s face turn a greenish white.

“Okay, no, I can’t,” Dean announced, rushing out of the room, one hand covering his mouth.

“Looks like dad’s morning sickness is starting early today,” Sam told Sue who answered with a long gurgling laugh. “Merry Christmas, baby girl.”

Later, they settled in the living room, just the three of them. Dean was a little pale but still in a good mood. Sam lay on his side on the floor, holding Sumiko in a sitting position against him as Dean put a wrapped gift in front of her. He was smiling, his green eyes bright, and that reminded Sam of the little kid who was still hiding inside of Dean, the kid who had never had the chance to really be and who was trapped there forever, giving Dean, the tough hunter everybody knew, this innocent, naïve side Sam loved so much. He was almost as excited as Sumiko as he held her present.

Sumiko grabbed the gift with both hands, letting out small excited cries, and let it drop onto her legs, banging on it and wiggling her feet.

“There’s something inside, sweetheart,” Dean said, laughing and tearing a piece of wrapping paper.

He was taking pictures with his cell phone.

Sumiko’s eyes crossed in excitement, hearing the noise it made. She tried to mimic Dean’s gesture but all she could do was to get a bow stuck to her hand, which made her even more excited. She drooled all over her chin and down her new Christmas pajamas, waving her hand in front of her. Sam was laughing too, now, petting the soft blond hair on her head.

“That’s awesome,” Dean declared, and lay on his back next to Sue. “Let her play with it for a while. She can finish unwrapping it later.”

“She’s going to hyperventilate,” Sam giggled as Sumiko continued working herself up.

They were alone on Christmas morning with the only gift being an overwrapped package of plastic blocks for Sumiko and Sam thought it was the best Christmas ever. He looked at Dean’s stomach, flat and firm, and was filled with anticipation at the idea of seeing it swell, of another human growing in there, one they would love as much as they loved Sumiko, even if that seemed impossible.

“No, Sue, not in your mouth!” Dean said suddenly, and Sam helped him take a piece of paper soaked in saliva out of their daughter’s mouth.

Sam laughed the whole time. The warm sensation blooming in his chest was pretty damn close to happiness, he thought. And as it was Christmas, he thought he was entitled to be a sentimental sap.

::: :::

When they went to bed that night, Sam found Dean laying on his back on the bed, naked, a red ribbon tied around his dick.

“Merry Christmas, Sammy,” he said with a mischievous smile. “Wanna come and get your present?”

“You are a moron,” Sam said, but started to undress as quickly as he could.

Dean waggled his eyebrows. “Come on… you know you wanna…”

“Shut up.”

But Sam… yeah. Sam _wanted_. He took his time to give Dean the best, sloppiest blow-job he could manage and then jerked himself off until he came all over his brother’s belly. Dean, sated, still riding the last aftershock of his orgasm, groaned.

“Need to mark your territory, dude?”

And yes, that was how Sam felt. Possessive, crazy in love. He kissed Dean’s pink lips as an answer, then grabbed a discarded tee-shirt near the bed to clean them both. When he was done, Dean lay on his side, leaning his head in his palm, looking serious and preoccupied all of a sudden.

“There is this job offering as a busboy in a bar nearby.”

“Busboy.”

“Yeah. I thought maybe I could go for it. It’s three days a week from Thursday to Saturday and since it’s at night, you’ll be home for Sue.”

“Busboy is a tough job, Dean. You’ll be on your feet all that time and, huh… what if there is a fight and…” Sam tried his best to sound casual, but the worry was clear in his voice.

“Well, I could still, ya know, try it, see what kind of bar it is and… We need the money, Sam.”

“I know.” Sam sighed, turning on his back. “You know, there is another solution, right? Find a baby-sitter for Sumiko and find an easier job.”

Dean frowned stubbornly.

“She’s still too young for that.”

It wasn’t the first time they’d had this baby-sitter conversation. Sam knew Dean was reluctant to leave their daughter in the hands of a stranger, but they would have to do it eventually.

“Dean. We’ll have doctor appointments coming up, and with your pregnancy we’ll need help. It’s past time to find someone.”

“Yeah well, anything could happen, Sam. And what? Think a thirteen-year old girl could deal with-”

Dean bit his lips, like he’d been about to say something unthinkable. A pink blush was creeping up his cheeks.

“We can’t protect her more than we are now,” Sam said softly. “I mean, this house is like a fortress against the supernatural with all the protections we’ve installed. And she has her bracelet and her name.”

The bracelet was a fine leather band Sam had made when Sumiko was born. It was tied around her left ankle and carved with all the protection symbols he could think of. Of course, it wasn’t fool proof, a bracelet could be cut, but then again, what were they supposed to do? Have their baby daughter tattooed?

“We don’t know if her name has any power at all, and as for the bracelet…” Dean made a dismissive gesture.

“Dean. We can’t act like that, like something is after her and is just waiting for us to turn our backs. We’re gonna turn into dad.”

It was a low blow, Sam knew, but it was also effective if the way Dean’s face hardened was anything to go by. 

“It’s not like that.”

“All I want you to do is to think about it, okay?”

“Oh, geez, Sam. Stop treating me like a freaking kid.”

Dean let himself fall back on the mattress, staring at the ceiling and sighing loudly. “Anyway, I don’t know how we’ll manage it.”

“What?”

“Fucking everything. The money, and the pregnancy, and the new baby. I mean, what are we gonna tell people this time? If Bobby comes by, what are we gonna say? That I’ve put on some weight? And then after it’s born, will we say this baby is another love child of mine, dropped in my arms by another unfit mother? Jesus, Sam, I’ve been thinking about this constantly and I can’t find any solution.”

Sam wanted to reassure him, he really did, but Dean had just expressed out loud the same worries he himself had been struggling with. He had no solution to propose.

“We’ll manage. Let’s take it one day at a time for now. It’s still so new and…”

“You don’t know what to do either.”

“… No.”

“Fuck.” Dean rubbed at his eyes. “It keeps me up at night, trying to wrap my head around all of this. And that’s when I don’t have those strange dreams.”

“What kind of dreams?”

Dean shrugged, looking like he already regretted saying anything about it. “T’s probably the freaking hormones and all that shit. But huh, yeah… I keep dreaming about this… thing. I’m in the woods and there’s some kind of woman running through the trees, and I can’t really see what she looks like because she’s all… shinny and stuff. And in my dream I know she’s hunting and I’m thinking, ’There’s the huntress.’ It’s… strange. I never have recurring dreams but I’ve had this one three times this week.”

“Is it more like a nightmare?”

“No. I don’t feel threatened. Just… like, I’m trying to understand what’s going on, but I can’t.”

“The woman, is she-“

“Sam. Enough. I’m tired and it’s just a dream.” Dean yawned loudly, as if to rest his case and Sam let it go. He could feel, nevertheless, that this was bothering Dean. He would have never mentioned it in the first place if it was just an ordinary dream. 

Maybe he was right, though, maybe all of it was just a hormone issue.

He turned off the nightstand light and settled comfortably in bed. Sue didn’t wake them up until six am the next morning.

_Freeport, January 6_

Since they had moved to Freeport, Sam had to spend thirty more minutes on the road each morning and afternoon. It wasn’t that much of a big deal, but still, he didn’t like the idea of not being able to be there quickly if anything were to happen. Of course, when they had bought the house, Dean hadn’t been pregnant and they hadn’t had any plans to have another baby, but now… now Sam kept wondering what they would do if Dean got hurt in any way. It’s not like he could go to the nearest neighbor if he had stomach pain or early contractions.

Even though it was very early in the pregnancy to be having those kind of worries, Sam liked to be prepared and if Dean’s first pregnancy had given him cause to be worried, now things were even worse since Dean had not only himself to take care of, but their baby daughter as well.  
Another thing that bothered him was that now they were almost an hour away from Portsmouth and Rania. For this reason, and since the first pregnancy had been fairly normal, considering the circumstances, they had decided that one visit every two weeks would be enough. Still, if the labor was to start in a rush like those _I-gave-birth-in-the-car_ tales the internet was so full of, this was another reason for Sam to feel uneasy about it.

He was juggling with all these thoughts while at work. The students wouldn’t be back until the next day and Sam had had plans to fix some minors problems with the internet connection without being disturbed, but his thoughts kept wandering, he was more nervous and fidgety than usual and unable to understand why exactly. He’d called home three times, and during the last call, Dean had told him to get a life and that he wasn’t his freaking fragile wife waiting for him to come back to her. 

During his lunch break, Sam scanned the job offerings in the Freeport area, just in case he could find something better than what he had right now. He doubted it; he had a good salary, nice benefits and most importantly, he wouldn’t have to work during the summer, when Dean would be close to term, and he would still get paid his salary. He did find something else, though. An ad that was titled: _“Hey, mom! Looking for a supplementary income? Work in the comfort of your own home! - easy statistics compiling job.”_

Sam bookmarked the ad, wondering if it was legit or not. It was from a company in the Great Portland area, not a mysterious internet source, and it seemed to be exactly what it said, statistics compiling. The qualifications included a working knowledge of Excel and Microsoft office and an internet connection, all of which Sam –and Dean- had.

Sam thought he could make this work for Dean. It seemed boring but not complicated at all. As long as Dean didn’t saw the advertisement ( _Hey, mom_? Yeah, that would go well.) he’d probably be interested by the job. It was way much safer than busboy in a shady bar.

Lost in his thoughts, Sam still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he had.

He couldn’t wait to be back home and left early. 

Turned out, Dean wasn’t in a good mood either. When Sam got home, he was folding the laundry in the living room, sitting on the floor with Sumiko laying on a blanket next to him and drooling around what looked like a carrot.

“Dean?”

“Yep.”

“Is that a carrot?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

Dean shrugged impatiently. “I think she may be cutting a tooth. She’s drooling like crazy and she’s snappy and she has all those red patches on her butt again.”

“There are dental toys for babies, ya know?”

Sam tried to take the carrot away from Sue, but she held her own, growling around the vegetable.

“I know, but I didn’t have any, and dad used to do this with you. It’s a freaking big carrot. She can’t bite it. It’s okay. And before you ask, yeah, I washed it.”

“Is there anything for dinner?”

“No, Sam! You can cook too, ya know,” Dean snapped, then went back to folding the laundry.

Sam wisely held back any comments he might make, and didn’t mention the job offer he had seen on the internet. He snatched Sumiko from the floor and went into the kitchen to cook dinner. Settled in her swing, she huffed and groaned around her saliva-covered carrot the whole time.

“You do look like you’re cutting a tooth, baby girl. A bit early, isn’t it? Dad is going to buy you a nice frozen dental ring tomorrow, what do you say?”

Sumiko mumbled her approval.

She went to bed early after Sam and Dean decided to give her some Children’s Tylenol to help with the pain. After that, Dean looked like he needed some time alone, settling in front of a western rerun on the TV, silent, almost broody. 

The uneasy feeling wouldn’t leave Sam, and he felt too impatient to cajole Dean into a more talkative mood. Instead, he made some excuse and went to bed just after eight, intending to read a little but falling asleep quickly, still wondering if there was something important he was forgetting.

::: :::

_Jess._

_Jess was looking at him from the ceiling, blood dripping on Sam’s face, flames melting her skin._

_He closed his eyes. It’s not happening. Not happening. Not…_

_It smelled like smoke and burning meat, and he was running in the darkness, screaming for Dean. There was something he had to tell him before it was too late._

_Something._

_Somewhere, a baby started crying, and the smell changed: it was the stench of sulfur, heavy and insistent, everywhere, and then…_

_Yellow eyes opened just in front of him and suddenly he remembered what he had forgotten._

_Oh God._

Sam woke up in a sweat, tangled into the sheets, already sitting up with a silent scream on his lips.

He was alone in the room. And today, Sumiko turned six months old.

The house was silent. It was almost eleven o’clock. Sam’s breathes came deep and fast. He stood up in a hurry, his heart beating so hard in his chest it hurt. 

_Yellow Eyes is dead. He’s dead, Lilith’s dead, Ruby’s dead. Nobody… No one is coming for her._

But as much as he told himself that, trying to grasp onto the logic and the facts, Sam was scared to death as he ran to Sumiko’s room, trying to scream her name, to yell for Dean, but unable to let out one single sound.

_Please, no. God, please._

He should’ve remembered. After everything they had been through, how could he have forgotten?

Sumiko’s bed was empty. Everything looked normal. The salt lines were still there. There was no scent of sulfur in the air.

“Dean,” Sam wanted to scream, but it came out as a shaky whisper and he walked downstairs on wobbly legs. It seemed like an eternity before he reached the bottom.

There was a feeble light coming from the living room. Sam followed it, the wooden floor creaking under his bare feet. 

“Dean?” he rasped.

His brother was lying on the couch in front of the TV, which was on mute. Sumiko was fast asleep in his arms, her head resting in the crook of his neck, her small butt jutted up.

Dean had one arm securely wrapped around their daughter, the other lying on the floor, Ruby’s knife held in a lax fist.

Sam let out a sigh that seemed to go on forever. He had to sit before his legs gave out on him. Dean looked up at him intently, the white trembling light of the TV dancing over his features like moving shadows.

“You okay?” He murmured.

“You remembered. Why didn’t you remind me about it?”

Dean bit his bottom lip and shrugged. His voice was soft and low when he answered. “I thought… I thought maybe you’d tell me it was stupid, worrying like this after we’ve killed him. But I couldn’t get it out of my head.”

“I dreamed about it,” Sam answered. “Fuck.”

He dragged shaky hands over his face and suddenly he was overwhelmed by the need to be close, to touch his daughter. He knelt on the floor near the couch and put his hand on Sumiko’s back, feeling her warmth and the slow movement of muscles as she breathed evenly. She was still so small. His hand seemed huge, with his fingers spanning his daughter’s shoulders and the bottom of his palm almost sitting on her butt. He sighed again and had to swallow back the lump in his throat.

“She’s alright,” Dean murmured, crooking a half-smile.

“Yeah, she is.”

Sam kissed Dean on the lips and settled himself as comfortable as possible.

They didn’t talk much. 

Sam thought about Jess, thought about his mother, thought about how wonderful it was to have someone worth fighting for, like a brother and lover, like a young, innocent daughter. How wonderful but terrifying, because he could lose them.

He wondered what Dean thought about, if he was reliving that night all those years ago, when he had saved his baby brother from the fire.

Neither of them slept until the sun rose. They watched over their daughter the entire night and no demons visited them.


	2. Chapter 2

_Freeport, January 16_

The YMCA men’s locker room was cold and Sumiko’s skin broke out in goose bumps as Sam undressed her on one of the plastic changing tables. It was only nine in the morning, the temperature outside was close to minus twenty. Sam yawned, asking himself once again what the hell he was doing here anyway. And damn it, on top of everything, they were late.

Sitting on a low, wooden bench, still wearing his thick winter coat, Dean was dozing, mouth half open, his head tilted to the side to rest on his shoulder.

Last week, Dean had declared that Sumiko was bored, that they should think of some social activity for her to do “with kids of her age”. In other words, babies. Sam had found the baby swimming class in a Freeport brochure and had immediately thought it would be a good idea. Dean had agreed, as long as Sam was the one getting into the pool with Sue, since his belly would be expanding throughout the eight week class and raised undesired questions.

And yeah, Sam had been enthusiastic about it. He had been to the store all by himself to buy Sue a very tiny swimsuit – red with small white dots - and those swimming disposable underwear they made especially for babies, smiling all the while, imagining himself doing something as normal as taking a swimming class with his daughter.

This morning, though, all he could do was curse himself, shivering in his shorts as Sumiko refused to stay still for him to slide her into the damn underwear. She was grumpy and still drooling copiously. The tooth hadn’t cut through yet.

“Dean, a little help?” Sam snapped impatiently.

Dean startled awake and rubbed at his eyes, standing up slowly. He was tired and Sam felt a little guilty. His brother had applied for the statistic compilation job and gotten it, mostly because he’d made himself a nice fake resume full of statistic compiling experience. He’d been working since Monday. It wasn’t as easy as Dean had first thought it would be. It was time consuming and there were graphs to make as well as different charts. Each Monday, he had to go to the company, which was some sort of big accountancy center, and pick up all the documentation he had to computerize. He would be paid for a fixed number of hours each week and had until Friday at five pm to send back the data through the internet. He’d barely had the time to finish yesterday afternoon and was sending everything, Sue crying on his lap, when Sam had gotten back from work. 

It was a lot, taking care of a six month old baby and working several hours every day. The morning sickness was now hitting him full force, he had lost at least a couple of pounds and his face was a pasty white even at the best of times. Sam doubted that Dean would be able to keep it up for long, but as stubborn as he was, his brother had refused his offer of help.

Sam held Sumiko as Dean slid the bathing diaper through her wriggling legs. She took the opportunity to grab hold of a hank Sam’s hair and to pull on it, hard.

“Sumiko, no!” He snapped, tears pooling in his eyes as Dean pried open their daughter’s deadly grip.

Sam never, ever raised his voice in her presence, and she looked at him, her chin wobbling, eyes wide and wet, making Sam’s heart break into tiny little pieces.

“I’m sorry babe,” he murmured, but it was too late. She burst out crying, and no matter what they did to sooth her, she cried through them getting her into her bathing suit.

“Come on, we’re late,” Dean groaned as Sumiko screamed her lungs out in his arms. “And you forgot this,” he pointed at the bathing hat which Sam had maybe left in the bag on purpose.

Sam put it on, not even looking at Dean who now had a big, goofy smile on his face. At least, someone was enjoying this.

As it turned out, Sam was the only father in the baby swimming class. He found himself waiting on the side of the pool, surrounded by women and babies, feeling gigantic and clumsy while Dean sat on a bench, still laughing so hard his face was turning a worrying shade of red.

Sumiko forgot to be mad when she saw all those people smiling at her and went into seduction mode. She didn’t stop once they were in the pool, just looked kind of surprised, then went with it. She didn’t cry when Sam had to immerse her head in the water and he felt ridiculously proud to find out she was one of the few.

It was kind of fun and Sam was slowly forgetting all about how stupid he must look and was just beginning to enjoy the class when the instructor told them it was time to sing the goodbye song.

Sam sang.

When he looked at Dean, his jerk of a brother had his phone pointed in the direction of the pool, filming the whole thing and still grinning like a mad man.

Sam would never live it down.

Sam went to bed first that night because Dean, having some serious stomach reflux trouble, stayed up to watch TV while drinking ginger ale. Sam was aware of his brother joining him later in the evening, sliding under the covers, warm body pressing against him, and he felt himself sinking deeper into sleep once Dean was there with him.

It didn’t last long.

He woke up again when he heard Dean’s voice trembling with distress. Rubbing at his eyes, he rose on his elbows.

“No… I won’t, please. Jus… let me go.” Dean said.

Sam went from half-awake to completely lucid in a matter of seconds.

“Dean, what is it?”

In the dim moonlight, he could see Dean sitting very straight in the bed, moving his arms awkwardly in front of him, like he wanted to get rid of a mosquito. His eyes were wide and full of fear.

“Dean?”

“I don’t wanna see her. Get her away from me.” Dean murmured, and wrapped both of his hands around his stomach.

He was dreaming, Sam realised finally. It was strange. During all their years of living together, Sam had seen Dean have plenty of bad dreams and he knew how they normally affected him. Dean would mumble in his sleep or wake up suddenly, covered in sweat, but he didn’t move around that much, not enough to be sitting up and still be asleep.

Usually, Sam’s hand on his arm, shaking it lightly, was more than enough to wake him up.

Not this time.

“Dean,” Sam repeated more firmly, accentuating the pressure on his arm.

Dean shook his head and suddenly moved his legs so they were resting on the floor.

Then he stood up.

“What the hell,” Sam groaned.

His brother was sleepwalking.

He got up quickly to follow him, just as Dean reached the doorway. 

“Dean, come on, man,” he repeated, trying to remember if he knew anything at all about sleepwalking.

Dean walked directly to the stairs and started his slow way down, Sam following him carefully, ready to catch him if he was to lose his balance.

Dean stopped in the middle of the living room, still staring into nothingness. He raised his arms right in front of him and made curious complicated motions with his hands. The gestures grew in intensity until his entire arms were moving.

Like he was trying to open a locked door.

“It won’t open,” Dean rasped. “She’s coming and it won’t open.”

“Who, Dean?”

Dean turned his head toward him and there was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, but they remained glassy, unfocused. “Dianna. We’re locked in, Sam.”

“No, we’re not. We’re home, Dean,” Sam said carefully, keeping his voice low. 

“Home,” Dean repeated. “She’s coming. She knows. She knows everything,” he said and grabbed Sam’s arm as he started shaking from head to toe. 

“Come on, Dean. You’re tired. Let’s get back to bed, okay?”

Dean looked at him, biting his lips, then nodded slowly. “I’m tired,” he agreed. “Tired of running away from her.”

He followed Sam obediently until they were back in their room. He let Sam put him to bed, frowning, still confused, but pliant and docile.

“Time to sleep,” Sam said.

Dean sighed, turned on his side and closed his eyes.

Sam, still a little shocked, stood there for a long minute, wondering what that had been about. Dean seemed to have fallen back into a normal sleep pattern, his features relaxed, his breathing even.

Shrugging, Sam went to have a look at Sumiko who was sleeping soundly in her favorite position: at the head of the bed, on her stomach, her butt raised high.

It took Sam almost an hour before he was able to go back to sleep.

::: :::

“You’re messing with me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t… _sleepwalk._ ” 

Dean looked like a stubborn kid, arms crossed on his chest, his breakfast untouched in front of him.

“Well, you sure did last night.”

“Huh.”

He was uneasy with it, Sam realised, and decided to let it slide for a few minutes and concentrate on feeding Sumiko instead. She opened eagerly each time he raised a spoonful of cereal to her mouth, then spit it out with the same enthusiasm.

“Come on, Sue. It’s good. Cereal. Mmm…”

Sue found Sam’s encouragement incredibly funny. She banged on her highchair tray and smiled, and that’s when Sam saw it.

“Dean.”

“What?”

“I think…”

Sam presented his finger to Sue who considered it with curiosity before opening her mouth slowly, like she was asking, “Really? You want me to taste that?” 

Sam quickly rubbed his finger on Sue’s lower gum and felt it, a small pointy thing sticking out. Sumiko fought the intrusion, pushing at his finger with her tongue.

“Hey, her tooth is out!”

“Really?”

Dean dragged his chair closer and tried to have a peek, making faces so she would laugh and open her mouth.

“We need to talk about this, Dean.”

“Talk about what? Her tooth? You’ll write it in her baby book… Come on, sweetheart, open your mouth for daddy.”

“I mean the somnambulism. You don’t recall anything at all?”

Dean was sticking his tongue out at Sumiko who kept her mouth closed shut and shook her head.

“You talked about someone named Dianna. You said she was after you. Who is she?

“I don’t fucking know, Sam!” Dean cut him off abruptly, features tensed in anger. “I don’t remember; what do you want me to say? I’m tired and my sleep patterns are all fucked up. I’m a pregnant guy, in case you haven’t noticed. My biology is shot to hell.”

Sue froze, hearing Dean’s tone, and her heart-shaped mouth dropped open.

“Look, all I’m saying is-“

“Holy shit, there it is!” Dean gave Sumiko a triumphant smile and she shook her legs in excitement as if she was saying: “Yeah, I’m awesome. I don’t know why, but I definitely am.”

Sam figured he could let it go since Dean really didn’t want to talk about his sleepwalking experience. After all, Sam was the one who had been plagued with demon blood and visions, not Dean. And besides, all of that was behind them now.

At least, it seemed like it.

::: :::

The sleepwalking thing repeated itself again two nights later, very early Wednesday morning. This time, Sam didn’t wake up instantly, but he must have felt Dean’s absence from the bed because he woke up with a sense of something very wrong going on.

He had a look at Sumiko before going downstairs. He found Dean sitting at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes in the dark with his Bowie knife. This time, Dean’s speech was incomprehensible, a couple of slurred words that Sam couldn’t make out. And exactly as last time, he followed Sam obediently when he told him it was time to go to bed.

Sam took Dean’s knife and hid it with the rest of the weapons, all the while thinking that a hunter suffering from sleepwalking was going be a handful to deal with.

The next morning, Dean blushed bright red when Sam showed him the peeled potatoes.

“I… really?”

“Yeah. I think it would be better if you didn’t sleep with your knife under your pillow from now on.”

“I was peeling potatoes, Sammy, not skinning a cat.”

“I know but still… Maybe we should talk to Rania about this? I mean-“

“Shit,” Dean mumbled, and ran to the bathroom.

He looked so miserable afterward that Sam let it go. It wasn’t like Dean was sleepwalking on purpose, or that he had any control over it, and he was stressed out enough as it was without having one more thing to worry about.

Sam would do the two things he did best: research and look after Dean in such a way that it wasn’t obvious.

::: :::

_Freeport, January 27_

Sam came back from work a little later than he usually did, having to stop at the grocery store to buy some food. Milk and jungle crackers were all Dean seemed to be able to keep down these days. “What about apple juice?” Sam had asked. “Ugh. Don’t even mention it, please,” had been Dean’s answer. Sam had read that symptoms could differ between each of a woman’s pregnancies, and apparently, that was also the case with Dean. 

Everything he had read about sleepwalking in the last couple of days pointed to a stress-related symptom. Sam couldn’t wrap his head around it. Dean’s first pregnancy had been much more stressful, if only by its very existence, but maybe having Sumiko and buying a house was messing with Dean’s fragile balance. He was, after all, being bombarded with hormones and undergoing the same intense physical changes as when he’d been pregnant with Sumiko.

Changes in sleep patterns could be another cause, but Dean wouldn’t give up his job on this pretense. Sam could already hear him arguing that he’d never had a normal sleep pattern in his life. Which was true.

He was surprised – and immediately worried - when he saw an unknown car parked in the alley behind the house. He grabbed the grocery bags and got out in a hurry, sliding on a patch of ice and only just barely keeping his feet underneath him in an awkward lurching glide to the porch steps. It wasn’t Bobby’s car, but it did look like some rebuilt vehicle that could’ve come straight from his salvage yard.

“Dean?” He asked out loud as soon as the door was closed behind him.

“In the kitchen!” Dean answered, and there was a slight hint of something wrong in his voice.

Before Sam had time to take off his boots, he saw Ellen Harvelle walk out of the kitchen, a smile on her face.

 _Huh_ , he thought.

“Ellen? What’re you doing here?”

“Just passing by,” Ellen answered, kissing him on both cheeks. “I’m supposed to meet Jo in Montpellier for a hunt and I thought I could make a little detour to see your new home.”

“Well, what do you think?” Sam asked, trying to sound as enthusiastic as he could.

“It’s lovely.”

Dean joined them with Sumiko canted on his hip. He looked uneasy and awkward. “Ellen is going to stay for dinner. There’s a chicken roasting in the oven.”

“Your brother is quite a cook, and your niece is adorable,” 

Ellen stated, smiling at Sue who stretched her small arms toward her. 

“Yeah, she’s a terrific baby,” Sam agreed, finding it strange to be called Sue’s uncle. When it was just Dean and him, Sam always talked - and thought, of course - about himself as Sue’s father. _Daddy is going to change your diaper, come to daddy_ … Dean did the same. They would have to stop that soon before Sumiko started talking, and it filled Sam with sadness, even though he was convinced he and Dean had made the best choice regarding what to tell people about the appearance of Sumiko in their lives.

The dinner started well, considering. Dean didn’t talk much, giving all of his attention to Sue and doing his best not make eye contact with Ellen even when she was addressing him directly. Ellen frowned a couple of times, but didn’t let on in any other way that she was bothered by it. Sam made an effort at conversation, asking about Bobby and Jo – now Mrs. Jamie Schwartz - and various hunts he knew they’d been working on, guessing between the words that apparently Ellen was now more or less living with Bobby and that she still didn’t like her stepson much.

At one point, Sumiko, who was finished with the few drops of cereal she was willing to eat, let her rattle toy drop on the floor and Sam fetched it, starting to say without even thinking,“There you go, sweetheart, dad-“

As soon as the word left his mouth, Dean paled. Sam cleared his throat and went on, ”…dad is too busy stuffing his mouth. Luckily your uncle is here.”

Sumiko looked at him intently, like she was wondering when the hell one of her dads had become her uncle. Sam dropped his gaze to his plate, but not before taking a quick look at Dean’s almost untouched serving.

Wow, they were doing great with this lying thing. Now, both of them were avoiding Ellen’s thoughtful stare like two guilty kids. It didn’t get any better when Dean stood up so quickly his chair almost fell over and left the table in a hurry.

“It’s… it’s a stomach bug,” Sam mumbled when the very audible noise of Dean throwing up came to their ears.

“That’s what he told me this afternoon,” Ellen said, looking so intently at Sam that he found it hard to breath.

Damn, the woman was learning staring lessons from Bobby.

“I’ll go see if he’s alright.”

“Yeah, you do that, Sam.”

In the bathroom, Dean was drinking water directly from the faucet. Sam closed the door as quietly as he could.

“You okay?”

“I don’t know. What about you, _dad?_ ” Dean rasped, slowly straightening.

“Okay, I made a mistake. But it was only because you were acting so strangely and it stressed me out. What the hell, Dean? When she and Bobby visited last time you weren’t this uneasy.”

“I don’t know.”

Dean was still a little greenish. He sat on the closed toilet lid. Sam wet a washcloth in cold water and handled it to him. 

“She knows we’re up to something,” Dean mumbled, his face buried in the washcloth. “Man, the way she keeps asking questions and looking at me and… Hell, I threw up twice before you got here.”

“Because of Ellen or…? Is it always this bad in the afternoons?”

“That’s not the problem,” Dean snapped, raising his head. “Now, get back out there and act normal.”

Ellen was already up and filling the dishwasher. Sam helped and when Dean got back to take Sumiko out of her high chair and announced that he was going up to bathe her, he only had to glare at Sam for him to stay quiet.

He would’ve taken care of Sumiko. Dean looked exhausted, but he probably thought it would seem strange to Ellen for Sam to be the one taking care of Sumiko.. 

“So?” Ellen asked after Dean was gone.

Sam stood there with his mouth open, wondering what was she talking about for a moment before answering. “So what?”

“Dean told me you’re doing good at your job.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s not really difficult, you know.”

“Computer tech?”

“Kind of.”

“So let me get this straight. You’re working and Dean stays home to take care of Sue. And you’re getting by that way?”

“Dean is working too.”

“Yeah, he told me. Here at home, statistics compilation or something like that.”

“That’s right. He… he doesn’t want Sumiko to have a babysitter. He thinks she’s still too young.”

Ellen closed the dishwasher door with a little too much strength. “Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“It… Sweetie, your brother doesn’t look well. He’s lost some weight, he’s nervous, he’s pale and this stomach bug…”

“Look. Ellen. We’re doing okay, really. And Dean… Dean is good. He just caught this virus and huh… Sue hasn’t slept that well the last two nights or so. That’s all.”

“Okay.”

Sam, who had been ready for a long and difficult discussion, couldn’t really hide his surprise. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I’m just worried about you boys, Sam. That’s all.”

“We’re fine, Ellen.”

“Just…”

Ellen got close to Sam and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. “If you ever need something, I hope you won’t hesitate. Bobby and I…you boys are important to us.”

“Oh, so now there’s a _Bobby and you?_ ” Sam jumped on the occasion to change the subject, and he couldn’t help but be proud of himself when he caught a pink flush on Ellen’s cheeks.

“Now, don’t be a smartass, Sam Winchester.”

But she smiled at him. He smiled back.

Ellen left soon after. She hugged Dean for a long time, holding him tight in her arms, telling him to take care of himself. He turned his head away, eyes suspiciously wet, and went straight to the bathroom as soon as she was gone.

Hormones, Sam thought. He heated Sumiko’s milk and sat with her on the couch. She would try to hold her bottle most of the time now, working hard to coordinate both hands, and smiling around a mouth full of dripping milk whenever she succeeded. It never lasted long. When she really “got into it”, as Dean would say, she would drop all pretense and let go, especially with her evening bottle.

She was sound asleep, mouth slack around the latex nipple, when Dean finally joined Sam in the living room, sitting in the armchair next to the couch. His eyes were swollen and he had red blotches on his cheeks. He really had been crying, Sam realised with a little shock. He had to fight with himself not to ask what was wrong because that would be the fastest way to make Dean defensive.

“She sleeping?” His brother asked with a gruff and scratchy voice.

“Yeah. M’just too lazy to take her upstairs.”

Dean nodded and turned the TV on to a basketball game, keeping the sound on mute. 

“You know,” Sam ventured a couple of minutes later, “Ellen was just worried about you.”

“Sam-“

“I mean, how could she know about us? It’s not like-“

“Sam,” Dean warned again. “Stop it. I don’t know how she knows, but I could…”

Dean bit his bottom lip and took a long, shuddering breath as if he had something difficult to say. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I won’t.”

“It’s like I could feel it, and damn it, I know it’s bullshit, I can’t explain it, and I don’t want you to ask me questions about it. I just… I could feel it, is all.”

Dean’s chin wobbled then. He cleared his throat, scratched the back of his head. “M’going to bed. I’m freaking exhausted.”

He stood up and left the living room using long, hurried strides.

Sam couldn’t remember Dean being this emotional at the beginning of his first pregnancy. Adding in Dean’s sleepwalking and his strange dreams left Sam with an uneasy feeling that something strange and gloomy was hovering over them.

…Or maybe he was just being pessimistic. Things had been so quiet and peaceful for them since Dean got hit with the curse that Sam couldn’t help but think that it wouldn’t last, that sooner or later, something would come back to bite them in the ass.

He hugged Sumiko tighter against his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

_Portsmouth, February 5_

“You’ve lost almost seven pounds, Dean. That’s a lot.”

Dean stepped off the scale and shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it.”

Sam, who was rocking a sleeping Sumiko back and forth in the stroller, cleared his throat.

“What, now?” Dean snapped back. “I told you, Sammy. I don’t feel any different than during the first pregnancy.”

He walked straight to the exam table, where a blue gown was waiting for him. He was used to the drill by now. With another exasperated huff, he closed the curtain.

Rania frowned at Sam.

“What is that all about?”

Sam only hesitated for a moment. “He’s been… sleepwalking.”

“Damn it, Sam!” Dean growled from behind the curtain.

Sam couldn’t understand why Dean was so embarrassed about it. They weren’t talking about a STD, after all, and to be honest, Rania had seen Dean in situations no one else had ever seen him in. Still, they’d had a fight in the car when Sam had mentioned that he wanted to speak to Rania about it, only ending the argument when Sue had started to cry.

“Is that something new?” Rania asked, ignoring Dean with all the detachment of a professional doctor. 

“Yeah. Never happened before, not even during his first pregnancy.”

“How often does it happen?”

“M’ready,” Dean called.

“It’s happened four times in the past two weeks.”

“And what kind of somnambulism are we talking about? Does he walk through the house or is he accomplishing complex tasks?”

“Well, once, he peeled potatoes and last night, he packed a bag with food, like we were going on a picnic or something.”

Dean pulled the curtain back, a strange combination of pissed-off hunter with his arms folded over his chest and his face beet red, and vulnerable patient, looking white and too thin in the examination gown. “I’m standing right here, you guys.”

“I’m just worried,” Sam defended himself.

“Well, it’s…” Dean mouth remained open as he visibly tried to find a good reason for not telling Rania about his sleeping troubles.

“It’s probably just stress,” Rania told him in a reassuring voice.

“See Sam, nothing to fuss about.”

“Sit on the table, please.”

Dean did and kept glaring at Sam while Rania took his vital signs and took a blood sample. 

“I wouldn’t say it’s nothing to fuss about,” the doctor finally said, gesturing to Dean so that he would lie down on his back. “Dean, you’re working full time, right?”

“It’s basically doing a whole lot of copying and pasting on the computer. I stay home, for Christ’s sake.”

“Yeah, but you have your daughter with you and you’re at the beginning of your pregnancy and morning sickness is an issue for you.”

As she was talking, Rania covered Dean’s lower body with a sheet and pulled his gown up. Dean’s weight loss was more apparent like that and, was Sam dreaming, or was there already a small bump on his brother’s lower stomach? Dean was only into his ninth week, and, as Sam remembered it, he hadn’t started to show until the end of the third month when he’d been pregnant with Sumiko.

“You’re showing,” Rania said, starting her physical exam.

Dean blushed. “Yeah.”

So. He was right about that. Sam repressed a smile and took a look at Sumiko. She was still fast asleep in her stroller.

“Well, let’s take a look at this little one.”

Dean’s hands tightened their grip on either side of the table. This would be the first ultrasound and he had been nervously anticipating it since that morning. Sam was nervous as well. Nervous, but excited. He tried to let go of all the worries he had concerning Dean’s health and just enjoy the moment.

It took Rania quite some time to locate the foetus, and Dean was getting paler by the second, biting firmly on his lower lip and frowning at the computer screen, like he could get the foetus to appear by shear will. And then suddenly it was there, the kidney-shaped thing resting inside the uterus that would become their second child.

“Here,” Rania murmured, pressing the wand on Dean’s stomach and starting to take the measurements. “It looks perfectly normal so far… Let me… Okay. It’s approximately 1.8 centimeters long. That’s nice. Here’s the umbilical cord and the huh… yeah, the placenta. It’s well located.”

“What about its heartbeat?” Dean asked, short of breath.

“I’m getting to it.”

Sam waited anxiously. He had been kind of scared of not feeling the same amazement he had when he’d first seen Sue on the ultrasound, but the sensation this time was just as intense. He had a wide smile on his face that he didn’t even control.

 _My little baby bean_ , he thought, a lump swelling in his throat.

Rania had turned on the volume of the machine and was slowly dragging the wand across Dean’s pale skin where is glistened with lubricant. A few seconds of searching and she stopped while the white noise was cut by the rapid thump-thump of a beating heart.

“That’s the heart. It’s very strong for a nine week old foetus,” Rania said, smiling at Dean.

Dean’s head was slightly cocked to the side, his green eyes wide and bright. He smiled back.

“She’s fine?”

“She?” Sam asked playfully.

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know. It just… slipped.”

“Boy or girl, its development appears perfectly normal so far,” Rania said before turning off the ultrasound screen. “And we want to keep it that way, Dean.”

The conversation they had after the exam was way less exciting. Rania was worried about Dean’s weight loss and stress level. She thought he was overdoing things. Of course, Dean took it as an insult.

“Listen, I’ve been hunting for years, sleeping when I could, risking death at least once a week. I’m not overdoing it. That’s ridiculous.”

Rania’s feature tensed and she suddenly became much more menacing. In her stroller, Sumiko groaned.

“The first trimester of a pregnancy is always tough, big guy. Whether you’re a delicate woman or a manly man like you. The hormonal changes alone are enough to cause stress and tiredness. Now, it’s worse for you since – and really, do I have to point this out - you’re not supposed to be able to get pregnant at all. Hormonal changes are a lot more brutal for you. Your body is under a curse, Dean. You also have to take care of a young child, which is enough to drive most parents to exhaustion during the first year. Add to that the sleepwalking, the trouble you have keeping anything you eat down and the weight loss.” At this point, Rania pauses to shake her head. “Like it or not, Dean, you have to slow down or it could affect your health and the baby’s as well.”

Rania’s face got redder as she spoke and Dean went from pissed off and exasperated to guilty and uneasy. He lowered his eyes. Sam was so impressed by Rania’s sudden outburst that he couldn’t, for the life of him, think of anything to say.

“Okay,” Dean mumbled after a few seconds of silence.

“Well, I’m glad we sorted that out,” Rania replied, taking a deep breath. “Now, there is one last thing I want to talk about.”

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, as if they were accomplices of some sort. 

“During your first pregnancy, the stretching of the pelvis and ligaments occurred around week twelve. There is nothing indicating that this time will be any different. Since you’re already into your ninth week, we’re getting close.”

“Geez, I forgot about that,” Sam said, remembering Dean curled on the backseat of the Impala and the sense of dread that had plagued the both of them, so sure that Dean had been miscarrying.

“I didn’t,” Dean groaned, wincing at the memory.

“So let’s try to take a proactive approach with it this time,” Rania stated.

Proactive was a word that he could get behind, Sam decided as he listened carefully.

:::

On the ride back, Dean left the driving to Sam and sat, brooding in the passenger seat with a big paper bag on his lap. In it were vitamins, iron supplements, protein shakes, disposable syringes and needles, some morphine, in its liquid form as well as pills. 

Sumiko wouldn’t stop whining. It was the middle of the afternoon and she had taken a long nap at Rania’s which, for some reason, made her especially grumpy. Her feeding time was getting close and since she had barely swallowed half a spoon of pea puree at lunch, she was probably hungry. Despite the fact that she was a picky eater, a hungry Sumiko was basically the baby version of a hungry Dean.

 _Fun times_ , Sam thought as he drove through a snow storm that was getting stronger by the minute. He had tried to talk to Dean when they had first gotten on the road and had been rewarded by a muffled groan. After some of the longest minutes in his life, Sam felt exasperation building up until he just couldn’t help himself.

“I don’t know what your problem is, Dean! Nobody thinks you’re weak or-“

“Shut up.”

“No, I won’t. All I’m saying is that we can split the work. I’m not joking when I say I have free time at my job. When nobody messes with the system, it basically runs itself. I could at least make the graphs and charts while you enter the numbers. “

“Okay,” Dean whispered.

“And I…wait, did you just say “okay?”

“Yes, damn it, I said okay,” Dean snapped. 

“Well… Great. And as for the baby-sitter, I know you don’t like the idea of leaving Sumiko alone with a stranger… I don’t like it either, but what if we hire someone to keep an eye on her while you’re home… Maybe just a couple of afternoons a week. You could do your work without being disturbed, but you’d still be there with her.”

“Okay,” Dean said again, looking out the window.

“Dean?”

“Now, what?”

“Are you messing with me?”

“Why the hell would I do that, Sam! We’ll do it your way, we’ll follow every single word of advice Rania gave us. Now, are we done?”

Sam frowned. In the back seat, Sumiko let out an angry string of vowels.

“Yes, I guess we’re done.”

::: :::

_Freeport, February 13_

That morning, Sam went alone to the swimming class with Sumiko. Dean hadn’t slept well the night before – although there hadn’t been a sleepwalking episode, he had woken up from an obvious nightmare, judging by the sweat wetting the sheets, and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep. When Sam had proposed that he stay home, he hadn’t even protested.

Something was wrong with him and it bothered Sam so much he was constantly uneasy when he wasn’t home with him. Dean was withdrawn and broody. He rarely smiled anymore and Sam often caught a strange look on his face, like he was lost or confused or even both. His only smiles were reserved for Sumiko. Even so, their daughter was visibly affected by her father’s mood and was often as grumpy as he was, crying for no reason, waking up several times in the middle of the night and refusing to eat her cereal and vegetables.

Sam was at a loss as to what to do. He’d tried to talk to Dean a couple of times only to be ignored or rudely told to shut up. He was hoping that Dean’s mood was the result of the tiredness of the first trimester and that he would get better eventually. Dean took Rania’s vitamins every day and tried to eat the best he could. The shakes hadn’t worked. First time he’d tried one, he’d thrown it up almost instantly. Still, he ate small meals six times a day instead of three bigger ones and that seemed to help somewhat, although Sam wasn’t there during the day and had to take Dean’s word for it.

He had put up an ad for a baby-sitter at the local supermarket where they did their grocery shopping and on a website. It had taken some time to get any responses, but they had found three people who were interested and they were going to meet them this afternoon. That didn’t do anything to improve Dean’s mood, of course.

After the swimming class, Sam was invited by a couple of moms to go get coffee near the YMCA with their babies. He was almost tempted to say yes, thinking about how Sumiko enjoyed seeing other babies and that he wasn’t anxious to get back home to the broody brother who was awaiting him. Then, he felt guilty, of course, because there must be a reason for whatever was going on with Dean and he had failed to figure it out so far.

When he got home, he found Dean in the kitchen listening to the news on the radio, still looking half asleep. Sumiko had fallen asleep in the car, exhausted by all the yelling and feet flapping she’d done in the pool. Sam delicately put her in her swing, unsnapping her winter suit and pulling off her hat. She pouted, but remained fast asleep.

“How did it go?” Dean asked, voice still gruff.

“Great. She’s not scared of the water, not even a little bit. Of course, if she’d stop wanting to swallow the whole pool…”

Dean had half a smile, looking fondly at his daughter. “She’s the best.”

“Of course, she is.”

Dean cleared his throat and stood up in front of Sam. He was wearing one of his old pairs of maternity jeans, the material worn out and very thin.

“They won’t last for the whole pregnancy. I’ll need some new ones.”

“Okay, yeah. I’ll take care of it.”

“Good.” Dean blushed. “Fuck, I’m actually thinner than usual, but the bump is like… in the way of the zipper and I can’t button my pants.”

“Did you get some sleep?”

“A little.”

“Ready for this afternoon?”

“You know what I think of this,” Dean’s face closed down and he turned his back to Sam, starting to clean the kitchen counter.

“Yeah, I know, Dean. Just… promise me you won’t act like a jerk.”

“I promise I won’t act like a jerk,” Dean repeated with so little conviction Sam couldn’t even pretend to believe him. He sighed. It would be a long day.

::: :::

It was like they were in one of those bad, family comedies. The first potential baby-sitter they interviewed was a woman in her early sixties. Sam had been the one to speak to her on the phone and she had seemed like a nice, responsible woman. She’d just retired and was looking for a part-time job because she was bored.

She sat in front of Sam and Dean in the kitchen. Sumiko was on Dean’s lap, babbling and letting out small high-pitched noises like she wanted to let them known that she had a choice in the matter.

Lena Thompson was drinking her glass of holy water and answering Sam and Dean’s questions, but there was something clearly disapproving in her posture and the way she kept her lips pursed when she wasn’t talking. After a while, Dean got impatient, despite Sam’s silent warning.

“Okay, is there a problem here, mam?”

The woman wiggled on her chair. “I’m sorry, Mr. Winchester, but I don’t like to be lied to.”

“What?”

“I did not realise you were living with someone.”

The way she said it left no room for misinterpretation. 

“He’s my brother,” Dean snapped, frowning. Sumiko groaned a series of “da-da-da’s” for good measure.

“If you’d been honest with me, maybe this would’ve been different. Even then, I’m not especially at ease with… alternative life styles.”

Sam was glad Dean had his hands occupied with their daughter, seeing how his face turned red all of sudden. What he didn’t expect was his brother turning toward him and giving him a long, wet kiss on the mouth. “Too bad, honey, we’ll just have to find someone who’s more open-minded,” he said in a voice full of dirty promises.

Sam blushed and Lena Thompson told them they didn’t need to show her the door. 

“What was that about?” Sam asked afterward.

“She was a stuck-up bitch, that’s what it was about. I gave her what she wanted.” 

Dean winked at him.

“At least she wasn’t possessed.”

“I’ve known demons nicer than her.”

The second candidate was a man, which had immediately raised Dean’s suspicions despite Sam giving him a lecture about the equality of sexes and the fact that they weren’t living in the fifties anymore. As it turned out, the problem wasn’t that the guy was… well, a guy. It was more that he looked completely high. He was in his early twenties, was looking for a second job to pay his rent (read: his pot) and he had been baby-sitting since he was a teenager. He drank the holy water, didn’t start yelling when Sam accidently spilled the salt shaker on him and didn’t even feel the sharp point of a silver needle when it poked him in the back.

After he was gone, Dean shook his head. 

“Yeah, I know,” Sam sighed.

“I mean. He’s not a bad guy, but fuck if I’d leave him in charge of Sue. What do you think, monkey?”

“Monkey” was yawning loudly and rubbing at her eyes, settling herself more comfortably on Dean’s lap. He had a very soft smile for her.

The third and last candidate arrived ten minutes late, and Dean was ready to send her packing by the time she got there. Clover Griffin was a seventeen year old girl and, according to what she’d told Sam on the phone, she had a lot of experience with baby-sitting.

She didn’t look her age. She was thin and short with a mop of dark hair tied clumsily into a ponytail at the back of her head. She had round glasses, just like Harry Potter, and her face was full of freckles – not the discreet kind like Dean’s, but big spots all clustered together. She blushed and smiled, showing the metal braces on her teeth. She was a living cliché, Sam thought, looking at the way she was dressed – a long, shapeless, hippie style skirt and a hand-knit sweater with an uneven, square pattern on it. Sam could picture her walking along a high school corridor, being pointed and laughed at. And unlike in the movies, she wouldn’t suddenly become beautiful and popular once she’d replaced her glasses with contact lenses.

Dean was observing her sharply, letting Sam ask the questions and cradling Sumiko who was now fast asleep in his arms. Clover had graduated from high school in June. She wanted to study sculpture at the Maine College of Art and was currently working on a project that could get her a scholarship when she started in September.

All of this was almost whispered in a thin voice as Clover studied her fingers. Sam waited for at least an eyeroll from Dean, but his brother looked open and interested.

 _Huh_ , Sam thought.

“So, Clover, your experience in baby-sitting?”

“Yeah. Well I have a little brother, Jake, and he’s seven years younger than me. Our parents died in a car accident when he was still a baby. We’ve been living with our granny ever since but she has a store to run and I’ve taken care of Jake most of my life. And um… last summer, I worked as a counselor in a summer camp. I have the phone number for them and some references if you’d like to have them.”

Dean was now smiling sadly at her. Of course he empathized. There were too many similarities between Clover and him to ignore. She was winning him over, as unlikely as that had seemed at first.

“So, this is my daughter,” Dean told her. “She’s an easy baby.”

“She looks just like you,” Clover said, and Dean literally lit up with pride.

That’s it? They were hiring her? Sam had a whole list of questions they haven’t even asked her yet. For good measure, he did the spilling salt trick again. Clover blushed as if she’d been the one responsible for the mess as she brushed the salt off her skirt without even blinking. As she did so, the sleeve of her sweater got pushed back and Sam could see a charm bracelet on her wrist.

“Charm bracelet?”

“Yeah… my granny. Her shop is kind of a new-age apothecary store. She sells herbs and charms and stuff, you know? Crystals and stones and incense. She was a hippie back in the day. Maybe you’ve seen her shop. It’s on Maine Street. It’s called _The Alchemist._ But… you know, she mostly caters to tourists and college students. We live just upstairs. I sometimes help with the store but I have a lot of free time.”

 

After that small lecture, Clover bit her lips as if she’d said too much. Sam and Dean exchanged a look. How much of a chance was there that Clover’s sweet granny was really a witch? By the way she talked about it, not much, but they definitely would have to check it out.

“Tell you what,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “Leave us those references from the summer camp so we can check them out and we’ll call you back.”

“Okay, no problem. I really would like to work for you, Mr. Winchester. I… I love kids.”

On the way to the front door, Sam poked her with the silver needle. She jumped, and a small droplet of blood stained the back of her sweater. When she turned to look at Sam, he was the image of innocence. 

“I’ll wait for your call,” she said, rubbing at her back.

“So, really? You wanna give Ugly Betty a try?” Sam asked Dean in a low voice as his brother settled Sumiko in her swing, careful not to wake her up.

“Don’t call her that.” Dean snapped in the same whispered tone. 

“Geez, sorry. I just said it before you did. But… really?”

“I don’t know, Sam. I… I trust her.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open and, although he managed not to voice his utter astonishment, it was a near thing. Dean didn’t trust easily, especially not when it came to his daughter.

“We’ll have to check the grandmother’s store,” Sam finally said. “What if she’s a real witch?”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Dean said distractedly, grabbing an apple from the counter. Leaning against it, he took an enormous bite. “But I suppose we still need to check,” he added around a mouthful.

“Of course we do. Dean, are you feeling okay?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah. Dude, what’s the matter? You wanted us to hire a baby-sitter and now that I’m going with it, you don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not… S’just…”

 _You’re different. I don’t know why but you are._

“You know what? I’m actually hungry for the first time in two months. Let’s order a pizza for dinner.”

Dean smiled and Sam didn’t say anything.

::: :::

Sam visited the shop the next day after checking that Clover wasn’t working. Her grandmother really wasn’t anything more than an old hippie who actually seemed to believe in all the crap she was selling. She definitely wasn’t a witch, not even one into the new age Wiccan stuff. Sam was satisfied. An herbal shop was a natural dark forces repellant, so if Clover ever had to babysit Sumiko at her home, there would be some protection. During his visit, Dean called the summer camp and learned that, although Clover was awkward and really shy with adults, she got along perfectly with kids and, for many, had been their favorite camp counselor. Dean told this to Sam with a triumphant smile on his face, like his brother had been worried for no reason.

They decided to have Clover come to watch Sumiko on Monday morning, since Sumiko’s sleep pattern had started to evolve lately. She normally didn’t sleep at all in the mornings anymore, but took a longer nap in the afternoon. That way, the baby-sitter would have time to get familiar with the baby.

It was just as big a step for Dean as it was for Sam, despite his strange enthusiasm toward Clover. They were including someone new in their inner circle. Eventually, they would have to work around the fact that Dean’s belly would become a lot more apparent, but for now, they had agreed to take it one day at a time.

::: :::

According to Dean, things went well with Clover during her first shift. Sumiko took to her immediately and the two seemed to get along perfectly. Dean even had time to fix a leaking pipe in the basement. After some discussion, and working with the girl’s schedule at her grandmother shop, they agreed she would come every Monday and Wednesday morning. Sam took some of Dean’s work with him to school, despite his brother’s reluctance. All in all, the work Dean was given for the week was done by Thursday afternoon. He looked less stressed and tired, slept better that week –even the nausea seemed to back off, although they couldn’t tell if it was because of Dean’s more laid-back schedule or the fact that he was heading toward his third month of pregnancy and it was just a natural outcome. Still, Sam was relieved to see some color returning to Dean’s face. He hadn’t done any sleepwalking at all the whole week, so maybe that was all it had been: stress and exhaustion.

As for the fact that Dean had been so prompt to trust Clover, maybe he simply saw something in her that Sam didn’t, like the fact that they’d both raised their younger siblings. Sam liked the girl, had nothing against her, but he still wasn’t ready to give her his complete trust. 

But as the week went by, Sam thought, maybe, the whole Dean-being-different thing had only been in his mind.

Then Friday came. 

::: :::  
 _Freeport, February 12_

If you’d asked Sam, it was a date, but since his survival instinct was pretty acute, he didn’t say that out loud. Dean had called him at work to say he’d found an old barbecue grill in the basement with charcoal that was still dry and could Sam maybe pick up some steaks on his way back? They’d wait until Sue was asleep to eat in peace.

So. A date. Definitely. Sam bought two of the biggest rib steaks he could find and, when he got home, the barbecue grill was already on the porch. It had been snowing all day and now the wind had picked up. Dean just raised an eyebrow at Sam when he said that the charcoal would never take in this cold, and yeah, it was a pretty stupid thing to say, considering Dean’s tendencies toward pyromania. 

They ate around nine thirty because Sue wouldn’t go to sleep. She had started to crawl that afternoon and just wouldn’t stop, going backward and forward, spinning on herself and drooling all over the floor. When Sam finally put her down, she crawled all the way to the upper corner of her bed, then closed her eyes and sighed, falling asleep almost instantly.

And sure enough, when Sam went back downstairs, the barbecue was running and smoking despite the wind, and Dean was cooking the steaks. Sam observed him through the window and Dean, sensing it, raised his head and smiled at him, his face surrounded by the faux fur of his parka hood, his cheeks red from the cold. A wave of love ran through Sam’s body and made him shiver. God, the things Dean had put up with over the last year, and there he was, standing tall and proud with a freaking baby inside of him, still sane –most of the time- and going through every day, the good ones and the bad ones, with this fierce will to live and to protect what was important to him.

“I love you,” Sam said later, as they were eating in the living room, their plates balanced on their laps.

“Mmm mmm,” Dean groaned, shoving another enormous piece of steak into his mouth, but there was a light in his eyes that betrayed the effect those words had on him.

They made love that night. Dean was so aroused he was already hard and leaking by the time they undressed in their bedroom. He was in a playful mood. As Sam finished undressing himself, Dean kneeled on the bed, sitting on his heels, stroking his cock, eyes reduced to slits.

“Fuck, I’m hard,” he groaned. “Been half-hard all day.”

Sam joined him, mimicking his position and stroking himself as well. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Thinking about you licking my ass… making me come just like that.”

And Jesus, Sam was only human. He shivered as his mouth filled with saliva and he bent forward to kiss Dean, shoving his tongue into his mouth, licking every single inch of him. Dean wrapped his hand around Sam’s on his cock and added just the right amount of pressure, jerking him hard and fast. When they parted, they were both panting hard and sweating. Without saying anything else, Dean lay on his back and parted his legs, his cock letting out a steady stream of precome. Sam grabbed his thighs and shoved them against his oh so slightly swollen stomach, exposing his tight pink hole, fluttering in the middle of a few strands of light brown hair. Licking his lips, Sam bent down and gave a tentative swipe of his tongue, which had Dean moaning loud and long, pressing his ass back against Sam’s mouth. They were both too far gone to tease each other anymore, and Sam went for it, closing his mouth around Dean’s asshole and sucking with a steady pressure. Dean shivered and tensed, grabbing Sam’s hair with both hands, letting out a hoarse cry. It didn’t take long before he resumed stroking his cock. Sam could hear the loud squelching sound as Dean picked up his pace and he release one of his brother’s thighs to grab his own shaft, muffling a groan against Dean’s ass at how good it felt.

“Oh jesus, oh god, Sammy. Can’t hold it anymore…” Dean panted, and Sam couldn’t help but smile before he shoved his tongue inside Dean’s dilated anus. The effect was immediate. Dean made a sound that was a cross between a yelp and a sob, his muscles locked and he started coming, shoving his ass against Sam’s face.

Sam waited for Dean’s violent tremors to recede a little, then he rose on his knees and jerk himself faster, still holding one of Dean’s thighs, until he came all over his brother’s abused asshole, groaning deep in his throat, his hair wet with sweat and hanging in his face. He collapsed next to Dean, trying to catch his breath as his brother gently rubbed soothing circles on his back.

A few minutes passed before either of them was ready to talk. It was Dean, who used all the dirty words he could come up with to tell Sam how good it had been. 

Sam chuckled and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I suppose I have to get a wet towel now?”

“As far as I know, I’m still the pregnant one, so yeah,” Dean groaned, shoving his elbow in Sam’s ribs. In retaliation, Sam ruffled Dean’s short hair, which he knew annoyed the hell out of him.

A great date, all in all, Sam thought to himself, smiling as he got up.

They fell asleep wrapped around each other.

::: :::

It wasn’t the noise that woke Sam up. It was Dean’s body trembling against him. As he slowly awoke, he thought sleepily that they were in for another round of sleepwalking. Then, he heard it.

Sobbing. Long, gruff sobs, intermittently cut off by hiccups and wet sniffling sounds. Sam extended his arm to turn on the bedside lamp and saw Dean lying next to him, curled in on himself with both of his arms wrapped around his middle. His eyes were closed shut, his face half buried in the pillow, and he was crying with so much heart Sam immediately felt a lump swell in his throat. His first thought was that maybe the pain in his pelvis and hips had started.

“Dean?” He shook his shoulder gently. “Dean, what’s going on?”

Dean didn’t answer and burst into another sob. It was hard to tell if he was asleep or awake, and damn it, Sam felt a rush of anger coursing through him, seeing his brother in so much distress. Why couldn’t anything ever be easy for him?

“Dean…” He said more forcefully, accentuating his pressure on Dean’s arm.

Dean hiccupped and blinked, stopping mid-sob as tears kept rolling down his damp cheeks. 

“Sa-Sammy?” He murmured. 

He had been asleep. Confused and shaking, Dean looked around, probably trying to shake off whatever had been plaguing him.

“Are you hurt?”

“N-no. Fuck Sam, I…”

Dean dragged his wrist under his nose and wiped his face with the sheets –which was kind of gross, but Sam so didn’t care right now.

“Was it a nightmare?”

“I…” Dean shook his head. “Yeah. Yeah it was. Damn it.”

“You wanna tell me about it? Dude, you were crying your eyes out.”

“So what? T’s not like I can control it when I’m freaking asleep,” Dean snapped back.

He turned on his back and stared at the ceiling, his chin still wobbling. 

“I’m sorry, but it was kind of scary. What the hell were you dreaming about?”

“I was… Jesus, I don’t know where I was,” Dean mumbled in an uneasy voice. “T’was dark and I was trapped there and… fuck, Sammy, I was so. Freaking. Scared.”

Dean swallowed back another sob while Sam hesitated, unsure of whether it was better to touch him or not. Dean usually didn’t share his dreams – neither did Sam – they both could easily guess what kind of nightmares were plaguing the other- and he looked so disturbed Sam knew a simple touch could make him snap. He settled for turning on his side, head in his hand, being close without touching.

“Did something else happen?” Sam asked gently.

“I don’t… I was pregnant but like, really pregnant, ready to pop and something wanted the baby. Sam, something was after the baby and I couldn’t do anything.”

Then, to Sam’s shock, Dean burst into tears all over again, hiding his face in his hands. “Fuck, I couldn’t do anything to protect her and… It wasn’t like a normal dream, Sam. I felt awake. I smelled the humidity of the place and I heard water dripping somewhere nearby and I… I was hungry and I couldn’t breathe and I felt like I had a fever and even felt the baby kicking… Fuck.”

“God, Dean…”

Sam couldn’t help himself. He put his hand on Dean’s belly, feeling the small, but firm, swell. Dean didn’t push him away. He was trying to get his self-control back, clenching his jaw and muffling his sobs as his chest shook hard to contain the sobs. 

“Do you think…” Sam hesitated before going on. “Do you think this dream is like… supernatural or something?”

Dean pushed his hand back and rose on his elbows, frowning at him. “No. You were the one with the visions, remember? This… this is just a fucked up pregnant man’s nightmare, nothing more.”

He was so insistent, like he was trying to convince himself. He got up to drink some water and seemed calmer, composed, when he got back. Sam barely had time to open his mouth before Dean cut him off as he slid under the sheets. “Sorry for waking you up. Geez, I’m tired.”

Then he turned on his side, his back to Sam, and Sam knew they wouldn’t talk about it again. 

Just a weird pregnant man’s dream, like that time with Sue when Dean dreamed he’d given birth to puppies. 

Just a dream that had Dean scared enough to cry in his sleep, and again when he told Sam about it.

What the hell was going on with his brother?


	4. Chapter 4

_Freeport, February 19_

Sam Winchester, _aka_ the giant tech guy, _aka_ the hot tech guy, (depending on the gender of the students who were saying it, according to Rosie, the librarian) was stuck under the principal’s desk, trying to work out what the hell was wrong with his computer. He was hot and sweaty, his boss kept coming to ask if the problem had been fixed and he had banged his head twice on the hard wood on the underside of the desk.

It was Friday, barely nine o’clock in the morning, and he couldn’t wait for his day to end. The past week had gone by without any incident after the nightmare that had troubled Dean so much, but since yesterday, Sam had started to see a change in his brother’s posture, as if he was being more careful in his movements. When he was sitting, he kept changing positions, and he had been so restless in bed last night that Sam had barely slept at all.

The pain from the ligament extension was coming. They just didn’t know exactly when it would begin.

“So? Did you find the problem?”

Henry McAdams, the principal, was now crouching in font of Sam, as if the space wasn’t narrow enough as it was. Sam repressed an exasperated huff. “No, sir. This computer is old. Have you considered buying a new one? Or I could rebuild one for you from some parts we have in-“

Sam‘s cell phone rang at that moment and he fumbled to get it out of his pocket without hitting his head again. Luckily, the principal had backed off, giving him some air before he choked.

It was the number of their land line at home, which was weird, because Dean normally called from his cell.

“Hey, Dean.”

“Mr. Winchester? It’s Clover.”

Well, that wasn’t reassuring. Sam had totally forgotten that Clover was coming that morning to help with Sumiko since Dean hadn’t finished his work for the week. Why would she call Sam at work unless…

“Are Dean and Sue okay?”

“Sue is okay, but Mr. Winchester doesn’t feel well.” Clover’s tiny voice was worried.

Sam extricated himself from under the desk, passing right by McAdams without even seeing him.

“What happened?”

“He said to call you, that you’d understand…He was working at the computer and he didn’t look well and I was taking care of Sue and when I got back from changing her diaper he was lying on the couch and he asked me to bring him something from the fridge and it was a bag with syringes in it and um… He kind of injected himself with something and he told me not to worry, but he really looked like he was in a lot of pain. He said he had an illness and that it was okay, he just needed to rest but-“

Clover had to stop there to breathe. Sam was already in his office, putting his coat on, and wondering how, if Clover hadn’t been there, Dean would have managed with Sumiko for the time it took Sam to drive back home. First things first, though, he had to reassure the young woman.

“I’m coming home, Clover. Is Dean still on the couch?”

“Yeah… He’s like, half asleep but he’s very pale and I-“

Sam walked in front of the receptionist’s desk, making a hand gesture to indicate he had an emergency at home.

“Don’t worry too much. Dean does have an illness and this happens sometimes. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just let him rest and take care of Sue. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Okay. What if he gets worse? Do I have to call an ambulance or-“

“NO! I mean… it wouldn’t change anything. We’ve got everything we need at home to take care of him. I’ll be there in half an hour, okay? Call me back if you have any questions.”

“Yeah, okay.”

As Sam drove – too fast - home, he called Rania to inform her of what had happened. She was very reassuring. No need to bring Dean to Portsmouth. They knew what was going on, but she would pay them a visit in the afternoon just to be sure.

“You’re awesome, Rania. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Gotta go, see you later,” the woman replied, still apparently not at ease with compliments.

Sam hung up and mumbled to himself. “Alright. What kind of illness can I freaking come up with?”

::: :::

“It’s PVFS, Clover.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

The young girl was rocking Sue in her arms. Sumiko was half asleep, sucking her thumb lazily, something she’d just started doing recently, while Dean snored on the couch, mouth half open. He was out for the count thanks to the morphine, even if he still moaned from time to time. Sam had covered him with a blanket and gotten back to Clover who was biting on her lower lip, eyes darting from Dean’s prone form to Sam and back again.

“It’s okay, it’s this rare illness called post viral fatigue syndrome.”

Sam went on with the same lecture he’d given Bobby, a year ago. 

“So it can cause pain?”

“Yeah, a non-specific, diffuse pain. Dean has morphine injections for it.”

“Oh. Because it really looked like he had a stomach ache.”

“Like I said… diffuse pain. He’ll be better in a couple of days. That’s why he has to work from home, and sometimes we have to go see this specialist in Portsmouth, so we’ll ask you to babysit from time to time.”

“No problem. It’s just…” Clover kissed the top of Sumiko’s head to hide a creeping blush on her cheeks. “Maybe if Mr. Winchester had told me that he had this disease when he hired me I wouldn’t have panicked.”

Sam sighed. “Clover, we’ve already told you, you’re not some kind of servant. I’m Sam, my brother is Dean. It’s just confusing when you call us both Mr. Winchester. And yes, it would have been wiser to tell you. Our mistake. These… pain attacks are very rare and the other symptoms are not that acute or debilitating, so…

“Right. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry, you did good, Clover. Really.”

As much as Dean seemed to get along with their baby-sitter, Sam felt awkward around her and he was sure it was the same for her. Anyhow, Dean was adamant about her ability to take care of Sumiko. She even helped out with some of the housework, even though he told to her, again and again, that she didn’t have to.

“You know, Mr. W-… Mr. Sam. Maybe I could take Sumiko home with me so that Mr. Dean could get some rest. My granny would be so happy.”

Sam thought about it seriously for a short moment, but this was a thing he needed to discuss with Dean beforehand, since Clover had only ever babysat Sumiko in Dean’s presence. True, it would have been useful under these circumstances, but Sam had enough on his mind without dealing with Dean, doped up and in pain AND pissed-off that his daughter was currently visiting Clover’s granny.

“Thanks, but we’ll be alright. Can you just stay until I finish Dean’s work on the computer?”

“Yes, of course.”

::: :::

Dean slept through Sam’s completion of his work and also through Sue’s lunch. Clover left shortly after that. Sam put Sumiko down for her afternoon nap and was hitting the send button on the laptop just as his brother started to shift on the couch.

Half awake, Dean groaned and grimaced in pain, trying to rise on his elbows.

“Sam? W’the fuck? What time is it? Where’s…”

He shook his head, as if to clear his mind, eyes still unfocussed from the morphine. Sam got up and went to kneel beside the couch.

“Hey. Everything is okay. You’ve slept through more than four hours. Sue’s taking her nap, Clover went back home and I finished your work. I got it all under control."

Dean sighed and twisted until he was lying on his side, facing Sam.

“God, I had forgotten how painful this shit was.”

“You’re positive it’s the same thing that happened during the last pregnancy?”

“Positive, dude. Shit. By the way, have you ever tried to stick a needle in one of your arms using the other hand? ‘Caus it’s tricky. I think… I think Rania increased the dosage.”

“Well if it’s working.”

“It is. Fuck, I need to pee so bad.”

“Come on, I’ll help you.”

“Okay.”

As Sam took Dean to the bathroom, he felt relief flowing through his veins, noticing Dean’s attitude this time. He wasn’t scared and was even willing to accept some help. If it wasn’t for the nightmares and sleepwalking, this pregnancy would seem so much easier than the first one, without all the angst and uncertainty. Now that the morning sickness was finally over, they could’ve enjoyed it so much more. 

Maybe they would. Maybe the sleep disorders would resolve themselves. A guy could dream, huh?

Dean closed the door in Sam’s face, leaving it only slightly ajar. 

“Dean?”

“Dude, I don’t need you to hold my dick for me,” Dean groaned.

Sam laughed, but stayed just outside the door.

::: :::

Rania’s visit confirmed that they were facing the same problem, even if it was already self-evident without her diagnosis. She had brought with her a portable foetal heart monitor and found the baby’s heartbeat immediately. Dean was now lying in their bedroom, dozing on and off from the morphine. He made a goofy smile when he heard the static-filled thump-thump, eyes lowered to his uncovered stomach.

Dean was kind of adorable when he was high and not stressed, Sam thought, looking at the swell of his belly, covered in conductive gel. 

“She’s okay,” he said slowly. “I know she is.”

“Dude, you keep saying _she._ Is it wishful thinking or do you know something I don’t?”

Dean shrugged. “Don’t know. S’just a feeling.”

“Blood pressure is a little low, but that’s the morphine working,” Rania said, completely focused on taking Dean’s vitals.

“Speaking of morphine,” Dean raised onto his elbow, wincing. “I feel so damn high. Did you increase the dosage in the prepared syringes you gave us?”

“Yes, I did. I didn’t want the pain to add to your stress or mess with your appetite. Since you’ve just gotten over the morning sickness, let’s not take a step backward.”

Sam thought Dean would protest, but he only nodded and fell back on the bed, yawning so wide his jaw cracked. Rania used a measure tape to measure his belly. “I can already see the difference from our last visit. I think this baby is going to be a heavy weight.”

“That’s his fault,” Dean said, pointing at Sam.

“Hey! You’re not exactly small either,” Sam protested while Rania gathered her stuff.

He showed the young woman to the door, thanking her again for the home visit. She shook it off impatiently. When Sam went back upstairs to see how Dean was doing, he had already fallen asleep, his small baby bump exposed and still sticky with gel which somehow made him look ridiculous and completely adorable. Yeah, even with the drop of saliva slowly sliding down his chin. 

::: :::

The weekend passed slowly. Dean stayed in bed, Sumiko let Sam know that she didn’t appreciate this change in her routine, and Sam took care of the house, his grumpy daughter and his stoned brother.

Dean started feeling a little better on Sunday afternoon. He could walk around the house, although slowly, and the pain wasn’t as pervasive as it had been the two preceding days. By evening, he thought he could get by with a morphine pill instead of an injection, but it soon became apparent that the pill wasn’t relieving the pain. When he bent down to pick up Sumiko, who was whining in her play pen, he just couldn’t do it and had to sit on the couch, sweat covering his forehead. 

“Too soon for the pill,” he told Sam, holding his breath, while Sumiko screamed at him, trying to hold herself up while holding onto the edge of the pen.

Both brothers agreed that one more day on the morphine injections was necessary and, when Sam gave Dean his dosage a little sooner than it was planned, it was clear that the lasting effect to the pill, added to the injection, got Dean even higher than before. He all but collapsed in bed while Sam was bathing Sumiko, and when she was finally fed and sound asleep, Sam went to check in on his brother.

Who, apparently, was still as high as a kite. He was in a half sitting position, his back leaning on pillows, wearing only worn-thin boxers and a Metallica tee, hair sticking up in all directions. He had a science fiction novel open in his hands, although by the way he was smiling dreamily at the ceiling, he couldn’t have been reading it.

“Hey Sam,” he slurred, his eyes crinkling. 

“I take it you feel okay?”

“Awesome.” Dean dropped his book and patted the mattress next to him. “Come to bed with me.”

“Alright.”

Sam stripped to his underwear and lay down next to Dean who twisted his head to kiss him, but missed his mouth, his lips sliding on his cheek, then ear.

“Okay, big guy. I don’t think you’re up for this right now,” Sam laughed, resettling Dean on his pillows.

Dean smiled too, rearranging himself. He looked all sentimental all of sudden. Dean had always been goofy and mellow when he smoked pot – this was very similar.

“Our li’l girl is crawling now,” he murmured, then sighed. “Gosh, she’s growing so fast.”

“Well, she’s only seven months old. She’s still a baby.”

Dean’s eyes became serious all of sudden. He rubbed his belly in a very soft, very slow motion –something he almost never did, especially in front of Sam. “But she’ll be… what? One year older than her little sister. She’s too young to be a big sis.”

“There. Again. You’re talking about the baby as if you were sure it will be a girl.”

Dean bit his bottom lip. “I am sure.”

“What?”

“It’s… I don’t know. It’s like sometimes I have this connection with her, like we can communicate. I can’t hear her speak or any shit like that, but sometimes I see images.”

Dean was speaking as though the subject was of no particular importance. Sam sat up straighter next to him. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know, man, s’just the way it is. I don’t remember it being this way when I was pregnant with Sumiko. It’s… when it happens, it’s like a tingle, in my mind, ya’ know? And huh… Okay, here’s an example. Before we met Clover I wasn’t sold on her, I swear, dude. And then I saw her and I was like worrying about having her watch Sue and then the tingling happened and suddenly I felt this… warmness and calmness, and I knew we could trust her.”

Sam didn’t felt warm, or calm, hearing those words. A sudden sheen of sweat covered his forehead and his palms became clammy.

“What do you mean, you knew you could her? Because the baby told you?” He asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Nah, that would be stupid. S’just… I don’t know. There’s a connection.”

Dean sighed again and crossed his arms under his head, admiring the ceiling as if it was a god damn starry sky. Sam tried to ask some other questions, but couldn’t get anything more out of Dean except a long monologue about how he needed to find a way to get the formula milk stains out of Sue’s bibs, which would have been hilarious – and Sam would have recorded it all with his cell as future leverage - if Dean hadn’t said all those strange things just before.

Dean had a good night. Sam barely slept two hours, dreaming of Azazel’s yellow eyes and waking up in a sweat.

::: :::

The morning after, Dean was really better. Grumpy and slow, but better. They didn’t really have time to talk because Sam had to go to work and had to use his lunch hour to go to the accounting company to grab Dean’s work for the week. Clover would be there all morning and Dean assured Sam that he was okay to take care of Sumiko in the afternoon.

So, a quick breakfast while Sue spit out her crushed banana everywhere weren’t exactly the ideal circumstances to bring up the subject of Dean’s connection with his baby. Still, Sam tried.

“Remember what you told me last night?”

“Wha? Oh, Sue, come on!” Dean rolled his eyes and wiped a piece of banana from his cheek. Sue answered with an angry “dee-dee-dee” and closed her mouth so tight it made her cheeks look twice as big.

“Dean. About this connection between you and the baby? Remember?”

“I… It’s kind of blurry, man. Too much morphine I guess…”

Dean grabbed the washcloth and started to clean some banana mush that had somehow ended up in Sue’s hair. “I swear to god, this kid must think she can absorb food through her skin.”

“You’re not listening to me, Dean.”

Then, there was a knock at the door, announcing Clover’s arrival, and Sam went to work without getting any answers.

::: ::: 

“All m’saying is, I don’t really remember. What do you want from me, Sam? Holy shit, I hate when you do this!”

“Do what?”

“You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“Dean. We’re talking about our baby here. We’re talking about you. I mean, even if you don’t really remember, you did not just invent all those things!”

“Keep it down, you’re gonna wake up the kid.”

As it turned out, there was no ideal moment to discuss this. Sam had waited until the evening, had waited for Sue to be put to bed, the dinner dishes to be cleaned and for Dean to look relaxed, drinking milk from the carton as he watched a game, sprawled out on the sofa.

Sam had been damn-well patient. He had noticed how Dean seemed to avoid him all night. He wasn’t stupid. But now, ten minutes into the conversation, they still weren’t even close to actually talking about it. Dean was hiding as far behind his walls as he could get, looking annoyed while avoiding Sam’s gaze.

Well, if Sam was a dog with a bone, he wasn’t about to let go of it.

“Yesterday night you told me the baby and you shared some kind of connection,” he said very slowly, pronouncing each word with exaggeration. 

“Yeah man, I was beyond stoned.” Dean replied, not turning his eyes away from the screen.

“So, there is no special connection between you. Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that?”

“Sam....” Dean growled.

“Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t know that it’s a girl, that you didn’t feel that tingling feeling when we first met Clover that told you she was to be trusted?”

Dean blushed so quickly Sam could actually see the color rise on his cheeks. He turned his head towards Sam, frowning, looking fierce and seriously pissed.

“It’s just a feeling. It’s stupid, it’s the hormones talking,” he said just as slowly as Sam. “I think it’s a girl because that’s what my gut tells me. Hell, maybe it’s just because I want Sumiko to have a little sister to play with. As for the rest of it, I was high. End of story.”

“Dean, this is a curse pregnancy. Shit, I’ve got demon blood in me. Don’t you think…”

“I’m not discussing this,” Dean cut him off abruptly.

“Fuck you, Dean. You know I’m not asking these questions for the fun of it. I’m worried.”

“That’s not my problem! Leave me the fuck alone.”

Sam had rarely seen Dean this defensive, and he could swear he saw fear in his brother’s eyes at some point. So he let it go because he knew too well that once Dean got like this, pestering him wouldn’t get them anywhere.

He was so angry at Dean for keeping him in the dark that he slept on the couch that night and, not for the first time since Hannah McPherson had put the curse on Dean, he wished they could talk to Bobby about it.

::: :::

Dean had been serious about not wanting to discuss it any more. Sam tried two other times that week and all he managed to do was to trigger another fight. He felt like he and Dean were very slowly growing apart. Sam watched Dean closely when he was asleep as well as when he was awake. He called home more often when he was at work. Dean knew Sam was watching him and it was like he was doing his best to pretend he wasn’t aware of it. They had regular conversations, took care of Sue, had sex almost every night, but something was different. It irritated Sam, feeling like Dean was hiding something from him. If it was about their baby, his brother had no right to act this way. Maybe in the end it wasn’t anything more than hormones, maybe Dean was in a different state of mind than when he’d been pregnant with Sumiko. But Sam couldn’t get himself to believe that. With the curse and the demon blood that was coursing through his veins, it was almost impossible for him not to worry, not to think about it almost constantly. What if the baby had some kind of power? What if the curse was working differently this time around? And there was Sumiko, who was so sensitive to her father’s moods. Was that the demon blood or the curse, or nothing more than a very close relationship between a father and his daughter?

Those thoughts keep spinning around in his head and giving him headaches. He was distracted and had trouble sleeping, felt the frustration building up in him in a way he hadn’t felt since he’d learned that Dean had sold his soul for him.

::: :::

_Freeport, March 6_

It was a nice morning, even though it was still cold. There was a scent in the air that announced that spring would come, eventually.

Sumiko had made everybody laugh at her swimming class when she had tried to speak while under water, and then had continued to do it when she saw the reactions she provoked. At a certain point, Sam had looked at Dean where he was sitting on the bench facing the pool and they had exchanged a proud smile, so intimate that it brought Sam ridiculously close to tears, after two weeks of talking about everything except what really mattered.

Sue was still in a good mood, so they decided to go grocery shopping before getting back home. It was still one of Dean’s favorite activities, even one year after giving up hunting and settling into their domestic life. His eyes lit up at the sight of all the food on display and he would lick his lips like some cartoon character. God, they’d missed so much when they were young: the invisible scars of their youth would never totally heal.

Sam installed Sumiko in the baby seat fixed to the cart and pulled off her hat while Dean filled a bag with apples in the produce section. While his brother went into a sort of fruit frenzy, snatching a pack of grapes here and two whole pineapples a little farther on, Sam pointed out food to Sumiko and named it, exaggerating his pronunciation of each word. He’d read it was a good way to help babies start talking and increase their vocabulary.

“See, Sue, this is a banana. See? Ba-na-na.”

“Da-Da!” Sumiko answered, pointing to a whole display of black cherries.

Sam adapted. “Oh, you wanna look at the cherries? Cher-ries. They look good, right?"

“And you sound retarded,” Dean pointed out, joining them with a bag of oranges.

“Well, I’m doing it for her, not for you, asshat. You want some cherries?”

Dean didn’t answer. He suddenly got a far-away look, like he’d drifted off. As a matter of fact, he had the same expression as when he’d been sleepwalking.

“Dean?” Sam snapped his fingers in front of him, not even eliciting a blink.

Sumiko let out a little scream, a noise that alarmed Sam because he’d never heard it before and it sounded like his seven month old daughter was scared.

“Dean!” He repeated, grabbing his brother’s arm and squeezing it forcefully.

Sumiko burst into tears so suddenly Sam actually jumped. Dean shook his head violently and grabbed the shopping cart with both hands. His jaw was clenched, his face as white as a sheet. He walked quickly to the end of the aisle, then stopped, swaying on his feet.

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam asked loudly enough to be heard over Sumiko’s cries.

“I don’t-“ Dean mumbled. “I-I… I can’t…”

Sam took Sumiko out of the cart and tried to calm her. That’s when they heard a sudden, loud noise that made everyone in the produce section gasp in surprise. It sounded like something had fallen, then burst, like glass breaking.

“Oh,” Dean murmured, looking over Sam’s shoulder.

Sam turned toward the source of the noise and his mouth dropped open.

The halogen light that had been fixed to the ceiling over the cherries had just come crashing down. There were pieces of glass and twisted metal everywhere amongst the small red fruits.

An employee was running toward it, asking if anyone had been hurt.

 _No_ , Sam thought. _No, but they could’ve been. It wouldn’t have killed any of us, but we could’ve been hurt. Sue could’ve been slashed by a shard of glass._

Sam shushed his daughter as she continued to weep in his arms, although more quietly now. He heard a strange gurgling noise behind him.

Dean was bent over himself, throwing up, holding onto a shelf to keep his balance.

“Dean?”

Sam strapped Sumiko in the cart despite her protests, and went to help Dean. His brother had finished gagging up what was mostly a long string of bile.

“You okay?”

Dean nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“We need to talk right the fuck now, and I swear to god, if you don’t give me some honest answers I’m gonna-“

“Okay,” Dean rasped, holding onto him. “Yeah, okay. Just… get me out of here.”

So, Sam did.


	5. Chapter 5

_Freeport, March 6_

They didn’t talk on the way home because Dean was so exhausted he couldn’t even keep his eyes open. Back at the house, he made his way inside and said he was going to lie down on the couch while Sam fixed some lunch for himself and Sue. Sam didn’t like how he looked, wanted to call Rania, but Dean gave him a look that was all but pleading. “I swear I’m fine. I _know_ m’fine, Sammy. Just give me half an hour.”

Sam took care of Sue’s lunch then put her in her crib for her afternoon nap. She went down easily given all the energy she had spent in the pool and the strange crying fit that had followed at the grocery store. He joined Dean in the living room afterward with a couple of sandwiches. Dean wasn’t asleep. He was lying on his side, looking straight ahead into emptiness. He quickly sat up when Sam arrived and, to his surprise, grab a sandwich and took an enormous bite, then another, then another, as if he’d been fasting for days.

“God, m’hungry,” he mumbled, wiping his mouth.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Sam wasn’t hungry. He cleared his throat. He didn’t want the conversation to turn into another fight.

“Dean. What… what happened back there?”

Dean swallowed loudly, then looked Sam straight in the eyes. “I was mocking you and then everything went white and I got that tingling feeling again, but it felt like an electric shock in my brain. And then… Fuck, I know there was some kind of image but I swear to god I can’t remember what it was no matter how hard I try. And then all that was left was this feeling, this urge to move, to get away from the cherry stall. And that’s it.”

Dean had this defiant expression on his face and Sam believed him. Apparently, his brother had decided to come clean.

“Okay, now are you ready to talk about what’s been going on with you since the beginning of this pregnancy?”

“Don’t patronise me.”

“I’m not. I just don’t understand why you’ve been hiding it from me."

Dean sighed and dropped his sandwich. “It’s not like that… it’s… hell, what do you want me to say?”

“Just tell me everything, Dean.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam and licked his lips nervously. “The pregnancy, it didn’t feel any different, in the beginning.”

“Okay…”

“And then… I don’t know. Those strange dreams started and that shit is still going on. Sometimes I’m hunted, sometimes I’m the hunter, and there’s this creature in the woods with me, all glowing and shit. I don’t think there’s a link with the rest… with the baby, I mean, but if you want to know everything. The sleepwalking, I don’t remember anything, and it seems to have passed, so…”

Which was true. The last episode had been more than two weeks ago. 

Dean swallowed and shook his head, smiling sarcastically. “You know why I didn’t say anything? I thought I was going crazy. I have this feeling that the baby is communicating with me, in some way. Sometimes there are images, sometimes it’s sentences, but not like she’s actually speaking, ya know?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, me neither! It’s like she picks images and sentences from my own brain and uses them. I was sure I was losing my mind, Sam. It’s like, as the pregnancy progresses, it becomes more intense. The thing with Clover, it’s true. Hell, I’ve been getting this image of mom cradling you… I didn’t even know I remembered so far back, but I knew I could trust Clover with Sumiko. It was getting harder to think that it was just me, going batshit crazy because it didn’t feel that way.”

“Even if you thought you were losing your mind, Dean, you should’ve told me.”

Dean snorted at that, like Sam had made an especially funny joke. “Yeah, because it was just that easy.”

“Dean! The baby… it’s communicating with you. It told you to get away from that freaking cherry stall. It knew what was going to happen as though it could foresee the future!”

“Stop saying _it_!” Dean snapped, face beet red and tense with anger. “It’s a baby… It’s a baby girl, not a… thing.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Okay, you’re right. I should’ve told you before, but don’t you understand…? I mean, when I realized I wasn’t going crazy it only made things worse, because then I thought about the demon blood and-“

“And what?” Sam cut him off abruptly. “You were afraid you were pregnant with a little monster, like your brother?”

Even sitting down, even with the angle all wrong, Dean managed a decent punch to Sam’s cheek, hard enough for him to feel dizzy for a minute. When he came to, his raging brother was standing up, cradling his hand.

“You’re an ass. You’re a freaking ass. After… everything… I already told you I didn’t care about the demon blood. You never believed me, is that it? I mean, I stood up for you, I never gave up on you even when you were convinced you were a monster. And now you have the balls to tell me that’s what I think about our baby girl? Our daughter, for Christ’s sake? Who do you think I am, Sam?”

“Dean, I wasn’t-”

“Shut the hell up. I don’t want to hear another word.”

Sam stayed there, rubbing his cheek and feeling like… well, an _ass_ , as Dean walked out of the living room in a furry. Less than a minute later, Sam heard the familiar rumbling sound of the Impala. 

He hadn’t meant what he’d said. It was just the frightening prospect of dealing with supernatural powers all over again, a sudden reminder of the two miserable years that had followed their father’s death, how he had felt about himself, how desperate and angry he’d been all the time back then.

And of course Dean had been there for him, had never given up. Sam knew that.

He was just scared.

::: :::

Sumiko cried when she woke up from her nap, she cried when Sam tried to feed her some green bean puree for dinner and she cried in the bath. Sam called Dean’s cell a dozen of times without getting anything other than his voicemail. At some point right after dinner, he tracked the GPS on Dean’s phone and discovered that he was about thirty miles from home, which wasn’t much, but after everything that had happened that day, Sam was getting more worried, more pissed off at himself and at Dean, by the minute. As he rocked Sumiko to sleep, he thought about calling the baby-sitter, borrowing her car and going after Dean himself. Of course, that’s the moment he heard the front door open and close.

Dean was in the kitchen when Sam got downstairs, making himself a cocoa. His teeth were chattering and his cheeks were red from the cold. 

“I was worried,” Sam said cautiously.

“I know.”

Dean sat at the table, warming his hands by holding his mug between them.

“I’m sorry, Dean. That was a shitty thing for me to say.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“And I-“

“See?” Dean cut him off, his voice low and calm. “That’s what scares me the most. When I told myself: _you’re not crazy, it’s happening for real. This baby, it’s definitely special_. Now, I don’t know if it’s the curse or the demon blood, but what does it change in the end? It’s a three month old foetus and it can already do stuff. Hell Sam, our own father told me I’d have to kill you if I couldn’t save you. And now here we are again and…”

“You’re scared of her?”

“No! No. I’m scared for her, don’t you get it? Looking back at all the shit that happened to you. What if demons come for her? What if someone like fucking Gordon learns about this?”

“Dean I… I don’t know what to say.”

“We can’t tell anybody about this, Sam. I mean, what can we do anyway? She’s inside me. I can… feel her and she’s… She’s our daughter, and it’s not her fault, just like it wasn’t your fault when Azazel fed you his blood.”

“Maybe Bobby-“

Dean snorted and swallowed hard and loud. He seemed on the verge on exhaustion, ready to break down. “Oh yeah, it would be so easy, explaining all of this to Bobby, starting with the fact that we fuck each other, and then the pregnancies caused by a curse, and then, if he hasn’t had an heart attack by then, let’s drop that the baby has powers and hey –they’re already manifesting. That would be just… great.”

Sam was about to argue. This -all of this- was too much for the two of them. They needed help, they needed…

What? What would it change in the end? What could Bobby do? Dean was right; the baby wasn’t even born yet. And the first real manifestation of its power had been to get the three of them away from a potentially dangerous situation.

“You’re right, Dean,” he said slowly, dragging a chair over to sit down next to his brother. He felt old suddenly. “We’ve got to protect… _her_ , if it’s really a girl.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Well, anyway, you’re right. There’s nothing we can do about it yet. We don’t know anything anyway. Maybe it has something to do with you, or maybe it’s the curse, or maybe it’s the demon blood. Remember what Maria Baker told you?”

“The witch? She said a lot of things.”

“That you were a vessel –a potential host for supernatural beings. And that man who wasn’t a man who rescued you from Hell. Maybe something happened to you back then.”

“I don’t see where you’re going with this.”

“What I mean is that there are a lot of facts to consider. The only thing we know for sure is that this baby’s special, you’re right, and it’s our job to protect her.”

Dean let out a long, trembling sigh. “Yeah.”

“And to make sure this isn’t too hard on you. I don’t know how we can do that but-“

“Sam-”

“You almost collapsed right there on the spot at the store.”

“I’m fine, I already told you that.”

“There’s something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. I’ve noticed something with Sumiko.”

“What? What do you mean?” Fear was back with a vengeance in Dean’s voice.

“She seems… in tune with you, Dean. She’s so sensitive to your moods. Maybe it’s nothing, just the bond between a parent and his child, but maybe there’s something there. She felt something was wrong with you at the supermarket and it scared her.”

“Why? Why is it so difficult for us to have just a little bit of normality? Just a little.”

Dean dropped his head between his folded arms. “I want them to have a normal life,” he added. “I want them to be safe.”

“And we’ll do whatever we need to do to make sure they are,” Sam said gently.

Because Dean was right. What else could they do?”

::: :::

_Portsmouth, March 24_

More than two weeks had passed since the incident at the grocery store and nothing else had happened. Sam had made Dean swear to tell him about anything unusual, and Dean had agreed. “But it’s not like that, Sammy. It’s like we’re always in communication on some level. It’s hard to explain.” Sam hadn’t prodded further on that particular matter because he knew Dean couldn’t do any better than he was and he didn’t want to push him to the point he felt he needed to barricade himself behind his walls.

Sam had done some research, but hadn’t found anything specific, not about the demon blood anyway However, he had found numerous accounts of pregnancies that had somehow triggered strange powers or symptoms. Most of it was dubious and unverifiable: _How my baby warned me not to go to work that day_ or _My pregnancy makes me see the future_. The kind of stuff you’d find in an Inquirer type newspaper or… well, the internet.

There were some consistencies in all those stories though and some more serious stuff Sam found in the few books he owned. Pregnancy had always been considered in ancient society as a great source of power, of strength. It got Sam to thinking that maybe, just maybe, the baby’s powers, whatever they might be, were amplified by the simple fact that it still wasn’t an independent being. Nesting in Dean’s womb, connected to him, who knew what else tied Dean with the baby other than the umbilical cord?

If it really was demon blood manifesting, it couldn’t be like it had been for Sam, whose powers had been triggered at his coming-of-age, when Azazel had been ready for his “special children.” This time, it was the next generation. Dean’s blood mixed with Sam’s under a set of circumstances that had only happened once before and there was no way to know the outcome since Sam was the last of Azazel’s kids still alive.

He could admit to himself that he’d thought about his powers recently a lot more than he had in the last couple of years. It was something that he still had trouble dealing with, that he would always have trouble dealing with. Were they gone for good, or were they “dormant” just as Ruby had told him? 

And what did all of this mean for their unborn child? 

It hurt Sam deep inside, like a wound that had been healing but was now reopening. It hurt him to think about what it could mean for his second daughter. 

He shared his research with Dean, but this - the guilt that was plaguing him, his anger at the thought that their link with the supernatural might never be severed, not with the demon blood running through his veins – this he kept to himself. Dean had enough on his plate for the moment, at least that’s the reason Sam gave himself. Dean was just as scared as Sam, but in a different way. He was evidently reliving the events following their father’s death, the burden John had laid on his shoulders moments before he had been taken by Azazel. It had been hard for Dean, trying to keep Sam together, to keep going and to believe that as long as he was there, nothing bad would happen to his little brother.

He was the one with the baby inside of him, after all, and it must have felt like he was going through that all over again. The fear that someone could hurt a person he loved. Dean’s greatest fear of all.

Coming home from work under an almost warm sun, Sam was surprised to see the door open even before he got out of the car. Dean had Sue in his arms and was gesturing at him to hurry up. He was smiling, though, which was a good sign, right?

“What’s going on?”

“Take off your coat and come to the living room,” Dean told him while Sue waved at him. It was something Sam had taught her to do and she had picked up quickly. She would open her hand, chubby fingers stretched wide, close them, then repeat it, mumbling a wet: “Ba-ba.”

Okay, it was more “bye-bye” than “hi”, but still.

“Hey baby girl,” Sam kissed her on the forehead and she stretched her arms out towards him.

“Okay, later, come on, Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes but followed them. In the living room, Dean settled Sue standing up against one end of the couch and waited for her to hold securely to it, then he let go of her, going to sit at the other end.

“What?”

“Shsh. Come on, Sue, come see daddy.” Dean told her in the most enthusiastic voice he could manage.

Sumiko’s feet stomped on the floor as she banged on the couch with her hands.

“Help me out, Sammy.”

Sam complied, crouching next to Dean and calling his daughter. After a moment of hesitation, she started walking sideways, holding onto the couch for dear life, smiling wide at her fathers until she reached Dean’s legs and stopped while Dean raised both hands over his head, fist closed, practically screaming, “You did it!”

“Hey! Good job, sweetie!” Sam said, taking her in his arms and twirling her around. She tensed at first, then started to laugh. Sam was laughing too. He looked into Sue’s green eyes and told her very seriously. “You are amazing.”

“Daa-daa,” she replied, hiding her face in Sam’s neck.

“She’s been doing it all day,” Dean explained. “…And she fell on her butt at least a hundred times. You know, I don’t think she’s going to be a big fan of crawling. She’ll go straight for the walking. I think you did the same, although-“

Sam wasn’t listening anymore. He was frowning at Sumiko, who made a serious face to match his.

“Dean, I think she’s saying daddy.”

“What?”

“Daa-daa. She’s been doing it since last week and it’s different from her usual “da-da.” She says it when she sees us.

“Whoa. You really think? Her first word?”

“Yeah, I really think.”

Sam put Sue in her play pen. She immediately settled on her belly and grabbed a small rattle toy.

“Well, that’s great!” Dean smiled at him.

“It’s… we have to stop this.”

“What?”

“Calling me her dad. She calls us both daa-daa. I’m supposed to be her uncle.”

It was stupid, how much it hurt, just saying the words. He couldn’t be her father. They were doing it for Sue, so she could have a sense of normalcy. He didn’t have the right to jeopardize that for selfish, sentimental reasons.

“I think it’s bullshit.” Dean stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah well, that’s how it is.”

“What if we teach her to call me Dean instead of dad, and you’ll be Sam. Some kids call their parents by their first names, right?”

“Dean. Why wouldn’t she call you dad? You are her dad.”

“Well, you are too, and it’s not fair,” Dean stated, leaving the couch to walk to the kitchen. “Is mac and cheese alright with you?” he asked from there.

“Yeah.”

Sam sat near Sumiko’s pen. She immediately grabbed the plastic rim to raise herself up and started babbling at him.

“It doesn’t change anything, right, baby?” Sam whispered. “Uncle is just a name. Doesn’t change what we feel for each other, right?”

Sue let go with her right hand and did her “bye-bye/hi” wave at Sam very solemnly. 

“I’m glad we understand each other. Now, wanna let Uncle Sam hold you?”

It sounded false and forced. He would just have to put more conviction into it, he told himself.

::: :::

_April 1st_

“It’s like a bad joke, right?” Dean asked, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Ultrasound on April Fool’s Day, maybe she’ll tell us I’m pregnant with a freaking cheeseburger.”

“What?”

“Nevermind. I had this weird dream…”

Dean shifted the impala into gear, giving one last worried look at their house.

“What kind of dream? The thing chasing you?”

“Oh, yeah, and it ended up with me finding out that I’m going to give birth to a hamburger with extra onions,” Dean mocked. “No, a regular, fucked up pregnant man’s dream. Besides, I’ve told you, it’s been two weeks since I had the… well, the woods dream.”

Everything had been so normal since the supermarket incident, almost too normal for Sam’s liking. He didn’t doubt Dean’s honesty. Besides, he knew his brother too well not to notice if Dean was hiding something from him. They’d talked about the baby’s potential powers a couple of times without coming any closer to any form of understanding. Besides the “connection” that seemed to go on twenty-four hours a day, nothing else had happened. Sam wondered if their unborn baby could maybe understand their worries and had decided to keep quiet, which was a lot of consciousness and empathy to give to a foetus of only eighteen weeks.

Dean kept looking in the rearview mirror, even though their house was long gone by now.

“They’ll be fine,” Sam repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

“I know,” Dean said too quickly for it to be really sincere. “S’just… We’ll be gone for almost two hours and…”

“And we discussed this over and over again. You said we could trust Clover. There’s nothing to worry about. Hell, I spent my lunch hour redoing the iron filling and salt lines around the house. Which didn’t need to be done again, by the way.”

Apparently, there was a whole universe between trusting Clover to take care of Sue in his presence, and trusting her to take care of Sue on her own. They had discussed this a lot, had even started slowly, with Dean “going for a walk” when Clover was home. In the end, Dean had stated the obvious. “It’s not Clover that I don’t trust, it’s the rest of the world.”

Which, they couldn’t do anything about. It was a learning process, Sam had stated, and they had to do it if they ever wanted to give their kids some kind of normal life. Dean hadn’t been able to find any counter argument and had reluctantly agreed.

Today, Rania would try to find out the gender of the baby. It wasn’t as exciting as it had been with Sue, since Dean was so convinced it would be a girl. Still, Sam wondered what would happen if they found out it was a boy. What would it mean with everything that had happen so far. If Dean was wrong about the baby’s gender, what else could he be wrong about?

“You should call.”

“Home? We only left ten minutes ago, dude. You do it if you’re that worried.”

Dean got so agitated during the trip he almost ran a red light and Sam decided he’d better make the call before his brother crashed the car. Sue was napping, Clover was doing the dishes – no, really, Clover, you don’t have to - and everything was under control.

:::: ::::

“Well, if we go with the first time I weighted you in December, you’ve gained seven pounds Dean.”

“Holy shit,” Dean mumbled, stepping off the scales.

“It’s good.”

“Well, I lost seven with the morning sickness, and now I’m seven pounds heavier than in December, which means I’ve gained 14 pounds.”

Sam chuckled at Dean’s concern and strange math. He received the famous glare of death from his brother.

“You’re having a normal pregnancy. That’s what it means,” Rania said calmly.

“Yeah, we’ll talk about it when Sam has to roll me off the bed.” Dean said grimly, sitting on the exam table.

His vitals were normal. Rania took another blood sample and got everything ready for the ultrasound. 

“Wow, you guys are much calmer than when we did the one for Sue.”

“Hey, same old, same old,” Dean joked in an uneasy voice.

“Well let’s see…”

Rania got the computer set up and poured a generous amount of gel on Dean’s firm, round belly. He shivered, then laughed nervously as the doctor started to press the wand gently against his skin. “There it is”, she announced, trying to get a full view of the baby which looked like it was rocking itself, it’s back lightly bent. 

“Wow, would you look at that,” Sam murmured, watching the head move slowly, like the baby was saying _yes! It’s me._

He and Dean were very quiet while Rania took the usual measurements and listened to the heartbeat. Dean’s eyes were wide, but there was something more than awe in them - maybe apprehension? 

“Ready to find out the sex?”

They nodded in unison, and Rania raised a curious eyebrow at them before proceeding. “Oh, well, thanks for your cooperation, baby. See guys, its legs are moving, just like it knew what I was looking for and wanted me to have a better look.”

Sam cleared his throat. Dean’s forced laugh sounded like he was choking.

“It’s another girl,” Rania declared, smiling at the both of them.

“Great,” Sam said, trying to at least look surprised.

“Seems that your sixth sense was right Dean,” the doctor added, starting to print some of the pictures she’d taken during the ultrasound.

“Seems like it,” Dean whispered.

He took the towel Sam handled him in shaking hands and cleaned his belly.

“Well, everything seems fine. But I swear to god, Dean, if I hadn’t followed you from the very beginning, I would doubt the conception date.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Dean immediately rose on his elbows.

“Nothing is wrong. It’s just that for the first weeks, the development was constant and well within the norms and now it seems like she’s three weeks older than she’s supposed to be.”

“Okay, what are we dealing with?” Sam asked, feeling the familiar sense of doom falling upon them once again.

“Nothing, Sam. I’m serious, guys. Maybe it’s just that Dean wasn’t feeling well at the beginning of the pregnancy and the baby’s development was affected. You know, not all pregnancies are the same. Changes in the speed of fetal development during pregnancy aren’t all that common, but it’s not a reason to worry. Now if it had slowed down, that would have been a different matter.”

“You sure about that?” Dean asked, still not completely convinced. 

Rania’s exasperated glare was more than sufficient.

::: :::

The first thing Dean did on the way back was to call Clover once again. The jerk dialed the number then threw the phone to Sam, responding to his younger brother’s bitch look with a silent: “What? M’driving!”

Sumiko was fine, had woken from her nap and was watching Clover fixing her some dinner from her play pen.

It was only after that that Dean cleared his throat and asked Sam. “So…this in-utero grow spurt… What do you think it means?”

He put a hand over the small swell of his belly and Sam knew he didn’t even realised he was doing it.

“Well… maybe it’s just what Rania said. Nothing to worry about.”

“Okay. You really believe that?”

“I don’t… We can’t associate everything with the baby’s so called powers.”

“So called?” Dean went from worried to pissed off in less than a second. “So it’s all happening in my freaking melon, is that it?”

“Hey, calm down. You know I believe you. All I’m saying is, we can’t just assume that all that’s happening is because of the baby’s powers. 

“I don’t-“

“Dean, she’s not gonna like… grow so fast that she’s ready to be born in one month! She’s not gonna say, “Hi, dad,” when we hold her for the first time. We’re not even sure what’s going on.”

“What if?”

Sam frowned at Dean’s uneasiness and the rapid blush that was crawling up his cheeks.

“What if what?”

“What if she… I don’t know, grows up real fast and-“

“And what? Digs her way through your belly?”

“Stop laughing at me! I’m not worried for me, I’m worried for her.”

Sam couldn’t help himself, though. The laughter that poured out of him was as much provoked by nervousness as it was by Dean’s ridiculous conjecture. He was glad his brother was driving, though, because he knew damn well this could have ended up with another punch.

“M’sorry,” Sam hiccupped. “Really, I am. Don’t even know why I’m laughing.”

“Then shut the hell up! Easy for you, aint it, Sammy? You’re not the one who’s getting fat and-“

“Oh, is that what the problem is? The weight gain?”

“Shut up,” Dean mumbled.

They were on a quiet road between two towns. To Sam’s surprise, Dean slowed down and took a small side street leading to a wooded area.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to calm down.”

“What?”

“You take the wheel.”

Dean had turned off the engine and was already unbuckling his seatbelt. His hands were shaking. Sam’s hilarity immediately died and he put a soothing hand on Dean’s shoulder. His brother tensed, but didn’t push him away.

“Dean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh at you.”

“Yeah right.” Dean was looking out the window stubbornly. “You know, Sam, after we found out about the second pregnancy, after I wrapped my head around it, it felt kind of… nice.”

“Okay.”

Dean sighed. “I mean it wasn’t as scary as the first time. I knew what was going to happen, I was ready to deal with all of it, ya know?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Sam did.

“And now it’s freaking unfair we have to deal with something entirely different. And maybe I’m being stupid and all, but yeah, maybe I don’t want to get so fat I won’t be able to see my feet, maybe I’m worried about Sumiko being so young and needing us so much with another baby on the way. And this baby, m’so scared for her I can barely sleep at night, okay? I imagine all sorts of things, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to her because it’s not her damn fault. She’s not even born yet and it’s like… she’s cursed. So call me a giant freaking girl, but I have fucking feelings.”

Dean dropped the last word as if it was a disgusting insect. And what was worse? He had turned his head to look at Sam while speaking and now his chin was wobbling.

“I know it’s hard for you,” Sam said as gently as he could.

“I know you know. Doesn’t change anything… And fuck, stop looking at me like that because if you don’t I’m going to bawl like a little girl.

Sam did the next best thing. He undid his belt and bent toward Dean, holding the back of his head and kissing him softly, tasting the damp skin of his lips. Dean groaned and tensed, for all of about one second before responding almost savagely, grabbing two handfuls of Sam’s hair solidly and forcing his tongue into his little brother’s mouth. They both twisted as best as they could to be pressed against each other, Dean plastered against the Impala’s door with one foot on the floor and the other leg bent on the seat while Sam more or less covered him with his body, the Chevy’s wheel pushing in his back. It was cold, and they were both wearing way too many clothes, but somehow, they manage to get their pants and underwear down a little.

Dean was panting hoarsely, his dick red and pressed against his belly, copiously leaking precome. He looked between their bodies and licked his lips.

“Fuck, look at you, Sam,” he mumbled, dragging a teasing finger along Sam’s erection.

Sam couldn’t hold it anymore. He grabbed both of their cocks in one hand and started pumping quickly, Dean’s precome enough lubrication to make it easy for the both of them. Sam didn’t hold back, kept his movements fast and strong, pressing a little more each time he reached their heads.

Dean was the first one to come with something that sounded like a low howl. Watching the way his brother’s eyes closed shut, his mouth opened in a slack expression of bliss, Sam gave himself one last stroke and came too, breathing so loud and fast he saw little black spots flashing in front of his eyes.

“Turn the engine on, it’s freaking cold,” Dean grumbled into Sam’s neck when they had both gotten back to a normal breathing rhythm.

Sam twisted himself and started the car. He pushed his hair away from his face and looked down at the mess he and Dean had made of themselves.

“Glove compartment.” Dean deadpanned.

Sam took out the pack of baby wipes they kept there. They cleaned themselves in silence.

“Wow, my dick smells like baby powder now. S’just wrong, man.”

Sam snorted and pulled up his pants, hesitating before resettling in the passenger seat. “You okay to drive?”

“Yeah, m’fine.”

“Dean. I just wanted to say-“

“Oh Jesus, here it comes.” Dean rolled his eyes for good measure.

“Hey, I have feelings too.”

“Now you’re just laughing at me again, and I’m not gonna let you, even if you did just give me a fantastic handjob.”

“I’m not laughing! Hey, remember, I’m the one with the demon blood in me, so if that’s what’s giving the baby her… well… powers, it’s on me.”

“Shut up, it’s not your fault.”

“Still. Let’s not… overreact with all of this. Take it one day at a time.”

Dean shrugged and turned the Impala around, getting back on the road.

“Overreact,” he mumbled in a low voice. “We’re not talking about a freaking bad hair day, here, Sam.”

“I know.”

“… But I get it. What you mean. One day at a time.”

“That’s right.”

For the moment, that was the best either of them could do.


	6. Chapter 6

_Freeport, April 10_

On that Saturday, Sumiko had the last of her baby swimming classes. They were giving diplomas, small frog-shaped papers that said: _You did it!_ with some notes from the teacher written underneath. On the way back home, Dean was smiling proudly at the diploma, re-reading the teacher’s notes. “Sumiko is very at ease in the water. She has good coordination and already possesses all the skills necessary to become a good swimmer. It-“

“Dean, for god’sake, you’ve already read it twice,” Sam smiled, only slightly annoyed.

“I bet that chubby little boy who kept crying didn’t have this much praise on his diploma.”

“They’re babies! It wasn’t an Olympic competition, you know.”

Sumiko cut their discussion short, practically screaming, “mam-mam!” which, in her vocabulary, meant she was hungry. Dean’s stomach grumbled in sympathy. “Yeah, monkey. Let’s ask Sam to make pancakes for lunch.”

“Daa-daam!” Sumiko babbled.

Her word for Sam. As much as he tried to call himself “uncle” in her presence, it just wasn’t working and he had settled simply for “Sam” which Sumiko had transformed into a combination of daddy and Sam, apparently. She would learn, eventually.

That’s what he kept telling himself.

“Seriously, though, I’m starving,” Dean stated.

He was always starving these days and ate way more than what Sam remembered from his first pregnancy. It was showing, not only on his middle but everywhere else: his cheeks were definitely rounder, his tights and butt as well. Not that Sam would actually say it, but Dean was getting chubby, which was a word he’d never associated with his brother before.

It was kind of cute.

Sam had told Clover a couple of days ago that Dean was now taking prednisone to help with his post-viral fatigue syndrome. Cortisone’s side effects were well known: it could cause a swelling of the face and a rapid weight gain, amongst other things. Sam had played it smoothly, taking Clover off to the side and explaining it to her, telling her that making remarks about “Mr.Dean’s” weight gain would be indelicate. She had agreed solemnly. Dean hadn’t been overly thrilled to know that the baby-sitter and his brother were talking about his weight “behind his back”, but had agreed that this would permit them to keep Clover with them for longer, at least until the summer when Sam would be on vacation.

That day, not only did Sumiko pass her swimming class, but she also took her first steps. They'd known it was only a matter of time. For the past week, she would walk with Sam or Dean when they were holding one of her hands. The fact that she actually found it incredibly funny didn’t help her balance, since she kept cooing and laughing.

Sam’s back hurt, bending down to help his tiny daughter walk a few steps whenever she felt like it, but he wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

That evening, Sam was folding the laundry in the living room while Dean gave Sumiko her bath. When he got downstairs with her, she looked all tiny and delicate with her wet hair combed to the side and in the yellow night gown that brushed her chubby knees. Dean knelt with her a few steps away from the couch and steadied her on her feet, staying behind her and giving her his arms to hold on to.

“Come on, Sue, wanna go see Sam?”

Sumiko looked back at Dean. “Daa-daa.”

“Yeah, daddy’s here. Come on, kiddo, you can do it.”

Sam knelt next to the couch and stretched out his arms. This was the fourth evening they'd tried it, and each time Sue seemed a little more eager.

“Come on, sweetheart. Come to Sam.” He cooed.

Dean slowly pulled back one of his arms. Sue swayed on her feet but stayed up, eyes going wild at both her father’s encouragements.

“Let’s go. Dad’s gonna be right behind you,” Dean told her tenderly.

And he let go of her, keeping his arms close, ready to catch her.

Sue swayed again, but kept looking at Sam. She let out a small high-pitched scream and took a hesitant step on the tips of her toes. Then, it was like once she was set in motion she just couldn’t stop, and was able to take four more steps, balancing herself with her arms and smiling like crazy, her two teeth shining in front of her mouth.

As soon as she was in reach of Sam’s arms, she threw herself into them.

“That’s it, Sue, you did it!” Sam laughed, raising her over his head while she giggled and kicked her feet.

“Did you see that? Did you freaking see that?!” Dean said, clapping his hands together. “Ten months old and she’s walking!”

“You are amazing,” Sam told Sue, who was still hovering right above him. 

“Daa-daam,” she said and a thin trickle of saliva fell from her mouth right into Sam’s left eye.

Dean laughed so hard he fell flat on his ass

It was a good day. Sam would remember it as the end of the more-or-less normal life they'd experienced since the grocery shop incident.

After this, everything would slowly but surely go to hell.

::: :::

_Portsmouth, April 14_

Their next appointment was scheduled at seven in the evening, since Rania had a pretty tight schedule at her clinic. Clover had to help her granny with the store’s inventory so they took Sumiko with them. She fell asleep on the way to Portsmouth and Dean muttered and ranted about the hell it would be to get her back to sleep once they got back home. He’d been in a bad mood all day and Sam had kind of felt relieved – and guilty for feeling relieved - that he was at work away from his brother’s deathly glare. When asked if his mood had anything to do with the baby’s… stuff, Dean had shaken his head. “No. I told you I wouldn’t keep anything from you. M’just tired, dude.” Which made sense. After all, since Sumiko had discovered she could walk, she just wouldn’t stop. Sam and Dean basically had to run behind her, half bent over, to prevent any falls. She was delighted to be at level with things she hadn't been able to reach before, and each day was a new discovery of what they had to keep away from her after she’d munched on Dean’s cell phone, where it was sitting on the coffee table.

There was now the need for two security barriers on the top and bottom of the stairs, and even though they could be opened with a handle, the catches were tricky. Dean spent a good amount of time cursing and shaking them before giving up and simply stepping over them. It wasn’t easy for him because he couldn’t stretch like he used to, which meant that Sam got a fair number of jealous comments about his freakishly long legs.

It didn’t get any better when they arrived at Rania’s and Sumiko woke up, confused and grumpy, refusing to be put in her stroller and holding onto Sam while crying her eyes out. Then, Dean stepped on the scales, as usual, and Rania’s eyes widened a little.

“Hum,” she said, frowning.

“What?” Dean looked at the numbers and his mouth dropped open. “Wait. I can’t… This is wrong. It’s broken or something…”

“No it’s not. You’ve gained eight pounds in two weeks.”

“No.”

“Yes, Dean.”

Dean was blushing red. Sam wisely ignored the whole exchange, concentrating on calming Sumiko.

“You might want to slow things down a bit,” Rania added, and she herself was avoiding Dean’s gaze, knowing his weight gained was a touchy subject.

“Slow things down?” Dean exploded, raising his arms above his head, the hospital gown lifting up and showing his boxer briefs, which, and thank god for small miracles, Sam thought, he didn’t seem to notice. “But I eat freaking healthy stuff all the time. Vegetables and fruits and even Sam’s fucking biological brown ugly bread and… I’m not doing this on purpose!”

“We’ll exam you now,” Rania suggested, but Dean wouldn’t let it go.

“How the hell am I supposed to slow things down? I mean, I’m not… I don’t…”

“Dean, relax. If you’re eating as healthy as you say, it means that your body needs the fat. It’s okay,” Rania said more firmly.

But Dean kept brooding, clearly agitated. It was enough to show with his blood pressure. The baby was still following its accelerated growth rate at two-weeks ahead of schedule, so there was nothing to worry about, even though Dean wondered why he hadn't felt her moving yet. She was moving, Rania assured him, just not strongly enough for him to feel it.

By the time they were done, Sue was asleep again, drooling on Sam’s shoulder. Rania asked if they could schedule an appointment for the next week instead of the week after.

“Why? Because I’m getting fat, is that it?” Dean snarled.

“I only want to follow your weight gain more closely, but if you want to phrase it that way, feel free to do so,” Rania replied, clearly exasperated.

Dean was about to reply when the door of the room burst open and a woman, who must have been in her early thirties, entered with a man leaning heavily on her, covered in blood. He had a make shift bandage wrapped around his neck and his clothes were shredded.

“Rania quick! He was bitten by a black dog!” The young woman snapped. She had an accent, but Sam couldn’t place it.

He was already up to help, Dean taking Sumiko out of his arms. They settled the man on the hospital bed, the three of them.

“What happened?”

“A freaking black dog happened, and I told him to wait for me, I fucking told him, but he wouldn’t listened and I’ve been driving for two hours straight to get him here. He's lost a lot of blood.”

“M’fine”, the man slurred, then cough miserably.

“Sure you are, you idiot. Why won’t you listen to me!” The woman said, but it was fear speaking. 

Rania shuffled through her medical stuff and Sam stood there, feeling useless and taken aback by a ton of memories of hunts gone wrong, the adrenaline coming with it, the fear of dying – or even worse, the fear of someone else dying. Dean taken apart by the Hellhound, the Devas scratching his brother’s face so deeply after his own, the…

“Sam, move,” Rania told him while the other woman glared at him.

He took a few steps back while thinking that if there was a girl version of Dean, badass hunter, she was right in front of him, thin but strong looking, dark blond ponytail flapping from left to right as she hovered over the man.

“Can we help?” Sam asked eagerly.

“No, sorry, it would be better if you guys go.”

“Yeah, we understand.”

It was Dean speaking. He was already at the door, Sumiko pressed closely against him, his face pale and his eyes too bright. Sam didn’t have to think for long before he simply followed him, more alarmed by his brother’s state than by the medical emergency happening before his eyes.

Dean gave him Sumiko as soon as they were outside. He swayed on his feet until he could grab the car’s roof.

“Dean?”

“M’okay. J’ss get Sue’n the car,” Dean slurred.

Sam did it as quickly as he could. Sumiko fought him fiercely, letting out small angry cries and trying to grab his face to scratch it. By the time he finally succeeded, Dean had opened the passenger’s door and was sitting with his head between his hands. Sam ran to him and knelt on the gravel ground.

“Dean? What? Are you okay, what?”

“Give me a minute,” Dean said, and it was a relief to hear that his voice was already more firm.

“What happened?”

“My head hurts like hell, Sam. Can you just get in the car and drive. I’ll tell you once we get moving.”

“But, maybe we should go back inside and-“

“I’m fine. The baby’s fine, now drive before Sue chokes on her cries.”

Sam did. Five minutes later, Sumiko was drowsing, her small chest still heaving from her crying fit. Dean’s head was resting on the bench seat, his face white and his eyelids slightly swollen. He finally cleared his throat and opened his eyes to slit, massaging his forehead.

“It wasn’t like at the grocery store,” he began to say.

“Okay. So what was it like?”

“Some flashes, in my mind, when those two hunters came in. And I heard…”

“What?”

“Sam. Stop interrupting me, okay? I’m trying to make sense of it and it’s not easy. I saw… A fucking image of _The Shinning_. You know the creepy twins? Saw them. And huh… also heard dad’s voice.”

“What?”

“What he said to me the night mom died, when he put you into my arms. _Take your brother outside as fast as you can. Now Dean, go._ ”

“Geez.”

“Doesn’t make any sense. Told you, it’s like she’s picking through my own brain to send me stuff.”

“Was it related to those hunters?”

“Well, obviously, but I don’t… I can’t… Maybe she just picked some stuff about them. I mean they’re hunters, they must have had experiences similar to ours. I don’t think she wanted to warn me of something because huh… When they both barged in, I was kind of scared that they would know. I mean, if they'd gotten there ten minutes earlier they would have seen me lying on the table with my shirt dragged up and my belly exposed.”

“That didn’t happened.”

“I know, but I was nervous, so maybe it’s a combination of both those things. Maybe she picked up my fear and those hunter’s fears as well. I don’t know how to make sense of it, Sam, honest.”

Sam believed him, and to tell the truth, he didn’t know if any of this made sense either. The baby was barely a twenty week old foetus. How could she manage her powers in a way that made sense? She wasn’t even conscious of the world around her, all she had was Dean as a reference.

But then again, she had managed pretty well when she'd made her dad get them away from the cherry stall.

“It hurts you, Dean,” is what he said.

He was surprised by Dean’s violent reaction. “She’s not doing it on purpose!”

“I know that, but the results are the same.”

“She’s a baby. She’s the size of a grapefruit!”

“Calm down. I’m not saying it’s her fault. I’m saying it could be dangerous, for you – even for her, as far as we know.”

“Well, nothing we can do about it. I can manage. It’s just a headache.”

Sam huffed impatiently. “I’ve been there, Dean. I mean, It’s not exactly the same thing, but I know what kind of headaches mental powers or visions can give. It’s not “just” a headache. What if it happens when you’re alone with Sumi?”

Dean shook his head in disbelief. “Wow. Thank you, Sam, really. It’s great to point out problems without any solutions. What do you want me to do about it? Hell, what do _you_ want to do about it?”

“I can…”

Sam tried to find an answer, a real good one. His head was empty, except for the fear. Fear for Dean, Sue, the baby. A baby who was growing too fast, while Dean was putting on weight way too quickly and was plagued by visions that exhausted him. They couldn’t know how far this would go.

“I can’t think of anything and it scares me Dean. I think we should talk to Bobby.”

“No.”

“Dean, Bobby knows we've been lying to him since you got hit by the curse.”

“Of course he knows we’re lying. Think I’m stupid? But he doesn’t know exactly what we’re lying about.”

“He would help us.”

“I…”

Dean blushed and crossed his arms over his stomach. “I can’t Sam. I can’t deal with this, with the idea of Bobby seeing me like this. The whole freaky pregnancy thing is hard enough as it is, but to let Bobby know, I’d feel like it was Dad who knew and I just can't.”

There was so much anxiety in Dean’s voice, in his big green eyes, that Sam couldn’t bring himself to insist. He tried to imagine how he would feel if he was in his brother’s place, but it wasn't possible. Dean was so fragile inside, even if he’d never admit it. He was a walking turmoil of emotions always on the edge of bursting. The pregnancy made it worse, but it had always been there, Sam knew. He loved his brother just the way he was, loved his hidden sensitivity, his clumsy way of dealing with emotions when he couldn’t even understand them most of the time. 

“Okay,” he finally said, and he could see the relief washing over Dean’s face.

“Okay. We’ll deal, Sammy.”

If only they could.

::: :::

The next day, Sam called Rania to ask about the hunters they’d met in her office. She seemed tired, couldn’t help but yawn more than once during their conversation.

Jason, the man, would be fine. The woman he hunted with was Isabelle. They'd been partners for two years now and usually stayed in the great lakes area. Sam had never heard of them, but he didn’t ask many more questions. Rania was way too discreet to give him any more information and it was a good thing too, considering what she knew about Dean and him. 

Rania seemed to think that was what Sam had worried about, because in the end she said. “You boys are safe. Jason was so out of it he doesn’t even remember you. As for Isabelle, she didn’t ask any questions.”

That was another good thing to know, but it didn’t satisfy Sam entirely. The baby had maybe been trying to tell Dean something about those hunters and it would be stupid not to at least check them out. 

Sam called Bobby and asked. When Bobby grunted and wanted to know what was this all about, Sam lost his patience. There were too many things happening, too many things he didn’t understand.

“Can you just do it, Bobby?”

“I know their names, but I’ve never met them. I’ll find out what I can,” Bobby said simply. Then he added in a very gentle voice that was completely un-Bobby-like. “Are you boys okay?”

It touched Sam so much he almost burst into tears right then. 

“We’re… We’re fine, Bobby.”

“And the little one?”

“Sue’s doing great. She's started walking.”

“Good. But Sam, if you boys need anything – I mean other than some info about hunters - just give me a call.”

“Yeah. Will do.”

Sam hung up, feeling vaguely guilty.

::: :::

Bobby called back with the info the same day. The man’s name was Jason Shatner. He’d been hunting for several years, a loner who specialized in poltergeists since that’s how he'd become acquainted with the supernatural in the first place. The woman was Isabelle Marchand. She'd been born in France, but her father had moved to the U.S. when she and her sister were teenagers. Family of hunters. The father had died several years ago, the sister a couple of years ago, and Isabelle had somehow ended up with Jason. As far as Bobby knew, they were good hunters, nothing suspicious about them.

Dean and Sam didn’t quite know what to do with this information. Dean was certain the baby had just felt the intensity of what was happening in the room and maybe had grabbed something coming from the hunters. Since he was the one who had felt it, he could be right.

Nothing happened for a whole week. Then, Dean and Sumiko got sick. 

::: :::

_Freeport, April 23_

Sam took his Friday afternoon off. The kids who went to the school were all out visiting some museum and Sam felt his time was better spent with Dean and Sumiko. He stopped at the drugstore to get some more tissues and children’s Tylenol, couldn’t resist buying a small stuffed, goofy-looking octopus for his sick daughter and a car magazine for his sick brother, then headed straight home.

Dean had caught the cold from hell two days ago and despite all the precautions he'd taken, Sumiko had awoken yesterday with her nose stuffed up and her eyes swollen. Sam was sure his turn would come eventually – couldn’t really escape it when your adorable, but snotty, baby daughter sneezed right in your face - but in the meantime he would gladly play nurse.

Dean had had a fever last night, and even though it had broken in the morning, Sam had called Clover to see if she could come give him a hand with Sue. The baby sitter could only stay until noon, but since she’d spent way more hours with Sue in the last few weeks than she was supposed to, Sam had been glad she could be there during the morning.

When he arrived home, he found Dean and Sumiko together on the couch watching an episode of Star Wars Clone Wars. Dean was in a semi-sitting position with Sumiko lying on her side, head resting on his chest, with a small hand open on his belly. She was holding her bottle loosely with her other hand and was half covered by the Impala’s old blanket.

They both look equally miserable, Dean with his swollen eyes and his nose rubbed raw, Sumiko with dark red spots on her cheeks and mucus drying around her nostrils and on her upper lip. The baby’s eyes were dull, barely open, and Dean made a shushing gesture at Sam, pointing to her. 

Sam nodded and walked around the couch to crouch next to it, kissing Dean’s damp hair. His brother tried to roll his eyes, but stopped mid-movement, wincing.

“How’re you doing?”

“I’ll live,” Dean murmured. “I think you should call Dr. Lenner, though. Sue’s spiking a fever and I think she might have laryngitis.”

“Really?”

“She’s coughing a lot and she doesn’t wanna eat anything. Only managed to get a little bit of juice into her since this morning." 

Sue groaned and cuddled more closely against her father, relishing the heat. A shiver ran through her and it twisted Sam’s heart to see her like that. She was usually so full of energy. Apparently, it did something to Dean too because he sighed and let his hand rest on her back.

“You think I should take her today?”

Dean didn’t answer, doing his best to fight an impending sneeze. Although he succeeded in stifling it, the sudden jerk of his body startled Sumiko who burst out crying.

“Damn it,” he mumbled rubbing at his nose.

Sue’s voice was all broken and raw, and each time she took a breath, it sounded incredibly painful. 

“Yeah, I’m calling Dr. Lenner,” Sam said.

::: :::

Luckily, the pediatrician could manage some time to see Sumiko that afternoon. Sam practically had to force Dean to stay home, and maybe regretted it a little once he was on his way. Despite the Tylenol he'd given her, Sumiko kept crying and coughing harshly. She was exhausted and Sam couldn’t do anything to sooth her. He had to wait for forty-five minutes before it was their turn and by then he was close to tears himself, desperate to succeed in calming Sumiko.

Dr. Lenner was reassuring, though. It was, in fact, a viral laryngitis, something quite common with kids. All they could do was to make her as comfortable as possible and she would quickly get over it. 

Because of Sue’s constant coughing and agitated state, though, the pediatrician asked the nurse to give her a dose of codeine. It would diminish the coughing and knock her out for the rest of the day, giving her body some much needed rest.

By the time Sam got her dressed, Sue was already calmer, sucking her thumb between weak moans She let her head rest in the crook of Sam’s neck.

“The coughing and fever can be intimidating, but I’m not worried,” Dr. Lenner said, patting Sam’s shoulder. “If she has another coughing fit that sounds like she's having trouble breathing, take her to the bathroom and run the water in the tub. A few minutes of vapor and it will stop. As long as she keeps her color, no need to be scared.”

“Okay. Okay, thank you.”

::: :::

Sue slept for the rest of the day – Dean too, for that matter. In the evening, Sumiko drank a whole bottle of milk. Sam gave her a dose of Tylenol and put her to bed with a small humidifier in the room and she slept through the night.

Dean didn’t, but his fever didn’t return and his major problem was nasal congestion. Maybe, if they were lucky, he would shake off his cold without it turning into anything more serious.

Saturday morning, Sumiko was grumpy and sleepy, but her fever had lowered. She tried to cry, but could only produce a thin broken sound. Dean was agitated, although he tried not to show it. He did look better, but Sam was too busy taking care of Sumiko to wonder if there was something more to it than his cold and his worries for their little girl. The day passed slowly. None of them got out despite the clear sky and bright sun. In the afternoon, Sumiko finally fell asleep for her nap and Sam went to find Dean, who was standing in front of their bedroom window, a fist full of crumpled Kleenex in his hand, looking strangely melancholy.

“Hey, you okay?”

Dean gave him a curious look, then turned back to watch the waves shinning under the sun.

“I like it here,” he said.

“Yeah, I… I like it here too. What’s going on, Dean?”

Dean smiled then, but there was no real joy in it. “I felt the baby move this morning.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was almost nothing, but I knew it was her. She made me feel it was her.”

Sam slid one arm around Dean’s waist. He didn’t react.

“Sumiko will be okay, right?” Dean asked, still not looking at him. One of his hands went to the swell of his stomach and rested there.

“Yeah, of course she will. I told you, it’s only laryngitis.”

“I know. You had it once. You were four, I think, and I kept teasing you because you couldn’t talk. God, you were so mad at me you cried. Then I felt bad and went to buy you a Popsicle.”

Dean’s voice had this dreamy tone. Sam didn’t like it, at all. 

“Dean, did something happen? Are you okay?” He insisted, and when Dean didn’t answer, Sam took his chin in his hand and forced him to turn his head.

“No. I don’t know,” Dean replied, his green eyes lowered. “Just got this feeling, something bad is going to happen. Is something bad going to happen, Sam?”

“No!” Sam had to fight the urge to shake Dean’s shoulders and tell him to snap out of it. Then a terrible thought crossed his mind. “Did the baby tell you that something bad was going to happen?”

“No. Don’t think so. I don’t… I’m tired.”

Sam brushed his fingers over Dean’s forehead and found that the fever was back.

Maybe that was all there was to it. Dean had always been so sensitive to fevers. 

“You need something for the fever, and then some sleep.” He stated firmly.

“Okay.” Dean smiled a little, then simply went to their bed and sat there until Sam brought the Tylenol to him. Five minutes later, he was sleeping.

He woke up better and when Sam questioned him about this feeling of something bad happening, he shrugged. “Don’t know, man. No baby powers or anything like that. I just feel shitty, is all.”

Sumiko slept through her dinner time and when Sam woke her up, she refused to eat or even sit. She cried quietly whenever Sam or Dean tried to put her down. She felt a little better after a bath but the Tylenol quickly sapped all the energy she had left and she went to sleep at seven thirty after drinking four ounces of juice. Sam was worried about her. He preferred her crying and rubbing her nose and being generally moody than that apathetic. Dean was also upset about it, but since he wasn’t that much better than her, Sam reassured him and sugar coated everything Dr. Lenner had said.

When Dean went to bed an hour after her, Sam took it upon himself to check every salt line, every sigil that was concealed in the house, then checked the locks on the windows and doors. He couldn’t shake off what Dean had said that afternoon, even if there wasn’t any reason for something bad to happen, supernatural or not.

Sam took the baby monitor with him to the living room and settled down to watch TV. He was way too nervous to sleep anyway.

It was around eleven thirty and Sam was starting to nod off during some historical documentary when he heard it, Sumiko’s almost inaudible cries through the static of the baby monitor. He was relieved, in a way. She hadn’t had a lot to drink and he would feel better if he could put more fluids into her.

He went upstairs quickly, not wanting her to hurt herself crying. He found her trying to sit, tangled in her covers. When he took her into his arms, she fought a little and made that strange coughing sound Dr. Lenner had warned him about. It sounded like a bark and it was scary to hear it coming out of Sumiko’s small chest.

Sam stayed calm and took her to the bathroom, just as he’d been told. He closed the door and turned on the hot water tap, sitting on the closed toilet lid with Sumiko. She was still coughing and wheezing, tears spilling from her eyes. In the crude light of the bathroom, Sam could see the panic and pain in her eyes. She was drooling profusely, her face was a deep shade of red and some fine veins were showing on her forehead. 

“Come on, sweetheart, calm down. Daddy’s here.”

Sam slowly rubbed her back and kept her in a sitting position. A few minutes, Dr. Lenner had said. It’s impressive, but nothing to worry about.

After two minutes, Sumiko stop coughing all of a sudden. Sam could barely see the walls of the bathroom because of the vapor. He felt this eerie sense of dread hovering and took Sumiko under the armpits to look straight at her.

Sumiko’s eyes rolled back. She fought feebly in Sam’s arms. Her mouth was wide open, more saliva dripping from it and her small nostrils were dilated. The deep red color of her face was starting to shift.

“Sue? Baby?”

Sumiko looked at him, and her chest tried to rise. Sam could feel it under his fingers. The tendons of her neck were sticking out, she was trying to raise her head but couldn’t manage.

She was trying to breath and couldn’t do it.

Sam’s mind went blank.

“Sue, come on, Sumi, hey, come on baby.”

He shook her softly, and she gave him a look full of panic and confusion, a look he would never, ever forget. Then her head fell forward and her body went limp.

“DEAN!” Sam yelled, and kept shaking Sumiko. He yelled again. 

She wasn’t breathing. His daughter, His ten month old baby had stop breathing. And all Sam could think of was that he needed Dean, that Dean had always been there, always made sure he was okay, always…

Sam sat on the floor and settled Sumiko’s limp body on his legs. Her face was turning blue, her lips were grey.

 _Please,_ he thought, _please, please, please oh god please…_

He tilted the baby’s head backward, pinched her nose and blew a small puff of air into her mouth. He could feel the resistance. Nothing was getting through. He tried again. Less than five seconds must have passed since Sue’s last breath, but it was like time had stopped on this horrible moment. 

The bathroom door opened suddenly, clearing the steam, and Dean came in.

“She isn’t breathing, she isn’t breathing, Dean. Do something!”

Sam felt the years flying backwards. Dean was the big brother. Dean would make it all better.

“Oh god,” Dean moaned, practically throwing himself on the floor near Sam. 

He grabbed Sumiko into his arms.

“Fuck, what are you waiting for, call an ambulance!” He yelled at Sam, then laid Sue on the cold floor, doing the same maneuver Sam had just tried.

Sam stood up on shaking legs. His mind captured Dean’s desperation as he bent over Sue and it hurt like he’d been stab straight through the heart. 

He didn’t have time to get out of the bathroom, though. Dean was taking Sumiko into his arms, yelling at him to hurry, when it happened.

The air around them started to vibrate, a hissing noise began. It got louder and louder, burying the sound of the water still running. Then, an incredible energy charge, like something pushing toward him, made Sam fall flat on his ass.

It was coming from Dean. Nothing was visible, but it was like Dean was surrounded by a wave of impossibly powerful energy. He was staring into nothingness and his nose had started bleeding from both nostrils. His arms were getting limp. He was going to let Sumiko slide to the floor. 

At that precise moment, Sam heard something in his head. A scream. The scream of a little girl. Everything went white and for a moment it was like Sam wasn’t there anymore.

What brought him back to reality were the cries of his daughter.

He shook his head, ignoring the pain pounding behind his eyes. Sumiko was still in Dean’s arms, but she was wiggling and crying, loud, healthy, angry sobs. Dean was looking at her. The blood from his nose was now dripping onto his mouth and shirt. 

“Sue?”

Sam took his daughter in his arms and burst out crying, painful, ugly sobs. Sumiko’s face was pink, her cheeks were turning red, and her chest was rising and falling as she sobbed. She was so alive, her body tense and fighting, her mouth red, her eyes full of tears and anger.

“Oh god, you’re okay, baby, you’re okay. It’s okay. Daddy’s got you.” 

He pressed her against his chest, rocking her and trying to get his own breathing under control.

“She okay?” Dean rasped, which immediately brought Sam’s attention back to his brother.

Dean was wiping his nose with the back of a shaking hand. His eyes were dull, seemingly unable to focus.

“Yeah, yeah, she is. Dean, you-“

Dean let out a profound sight and fell backward, his back hitting the wall. His upper body slid slowly to the side.

“Dean!”

“M’okay,” he mumbled. “Just… need to rest for a minute.”

He closed his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

_Freeport, April 25_

“Dean?”

Sam kept his voice barely above a whisper. The six am rising sun had started to pierced through the curtains of the bedroom.

Both Dean and Sumiko looked peaceful, sleeping on their sides, facing each other without knowing it. Sam had trouble turning his eyes away from his daughter’s face. She was breathing evenly, her cheeks a light shade of pink.

No more symptoms. Like she'd never been sick at all.

When a sudden vision of Sumiko’s bluish face crossed his mind, Sam closed his eyes, hard, trying to force it out of his head.

This wasn’t something easily forgettable. Like Dean’s lifeless body, torn apart by a Hellhound.

_Stop it, Sam._

“Dean?” He repeated softly, brushing his fingers across his brother’s forehead.

There was still some dried blood around his nostrils. Sam had done what he could. 

Dean blinked lazily and stirred, wincing. Sam could see the moment he was awake enough to remember the events of the night. His entire body tensed, his eyes opened wide, and he raised on his elbow when Sam put a soothing hand on his chest.

“She’s alright. She’s right here,” he whispered and Dean nodded slowly, turning toward Sumiko and looking at her for a long time, like he was afraid she would dissolve into thin air if he touched her.

“How are you doin’?” Dean finally asked, voice gruff.

Sam let out a small, incredulous laugh and sat on the bed next to Dean, handing him a glass of water.

“Thirsty?”

Dean slowly lifted himself into a sitting position, careful not to disturb Sumiko. He grabbed the glass and downed it in one long gulp.

“I feel fine," Sam said. "What about you? Has anything changed?”

Dean looked him straight in the eyes. “I told you, Sammy. The baby’s fine, I can feel it. I would’ve been the one asking you to call Rania otherwise.”

Sam nodded. Last night, after Sumiko had woken up, started to breathe again, Dean had fainted for a few seconds. After that, he’d been exhausted and groggy, but the nosebleed had stopped by itself and all he had wanted to do was to sleep. Sam was submerged by emotions and refused to let go of Sumiko. He had kept her in his arms while he’d helped Dean up to their room, while he'd given him a washcloth to wash the blood off and another t-shirt to change into. He'd thought he would never be able to let go of his daughter again. And it was scary, the intensity of his emotions, the guilt of letting Dean have his way and take care of himself despite his exhaustion, because Sumiko was there, in his arms, alive, and it felt so, so good.

“I can hear you thinkin’,” Dean mumbled, brushing a hand over his face. “She’s alright.”

Sam’s eyes had been dragged once more to Sumiko’s sleeping face. 

“Yeah, she is.”

“What happened after… Well, you know…” Dean asked, shrugging.

“After I put you to bed? You remember?”

“Yeah.”

“She was… um… she was thirsty and so mad, Dean, you know how she kind of babbles and cries at the same time?” Sam smiled nervously. “Took her downstairs, she drank a whole bottle of milk. Then she didn’t want to go to sleep. Wanted to play. She kept pointing to her play pen and as soon as I put her inside she started crawling and grabbing her toys. She fell asleep about an hour ago.”

Dean smiled too. It was good to see his face brighten with it.

“She’s really better?”

“Not just… back from the not breathing stuff. She hasn't coughed, her fever is gone, her voice is back. Like she hadn’t been sick at all. I looked on the internet and I think she might have had an epiglottitis instead of a laryngitis, which kind of presents the same symptoms at first. Except that epiglottitis is a swelling of the cartilage that covers the larynx and it’s because of that flap that food doesn’t get into the airways and in fact-“

“Sam. Come on. Short version.”

“When it swells it blocks the airways and it’s a medical emergency. It happens quite suddenly. It’s not Dr. Lenner’s fault. I should have taken her to the hospital yesterday evening, when I realized how apathetic she was. And there was the drooling, also, and the-“

“You stop. You stop right there, okay?”

Dean took Sam’s arm and pressed it lightly. Sam realized he was sweating and panting. The panic and the fear were back with as much intensity as the night before.

“Not your fault, Sam,” Dean emphasized. “Am I clear? ‘Caus if I remember correctly I was there to and I didn’t even realize how sick she was.”

“You were sick too.”

“I have a freaking common cold, m’not dying. Hey, come on. Are you gonna go all panic attack on me now?”

Sam shrugged, swallowed the sob that was rising in his throat. “I was there, I was right there and I saw it in her eyes, Dean, when she stopped breathing. She looked at me and she was so scared, fuck, and she tried so hard to breath and then…”

“Okay. Slow down. Come on, Sammy. Look at me, okay?”

His brother held both his arms and Sam did look at him. Looked for the reassurance and the steady presence in the fierce intensity of Dean’s green eyes. Dean wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Sue or him or the baby, right? Dean was…

“Still breathing too fast, Sam,” he said, and his right hand left Sam’s arm to rest on his chest. Dean’s solid, warm palm was right over his heart.

Sam kept looking and tried to control the rhythm of his breathing.

“Okay,” Dean said after a moment. “Better.” His thumb was rubbing small soothing circles on Sam’s skin.

“So,” Sam finally said when he felt he was calm enough. “Do we both agree on this? The baby did something. She cured Sumiko.”

Sam wouldn’t even let himself think that Sumiko had been close to death, maybe even clinically dead, when it had happened. That was a sure way to bring the panic back.

“Yeah she… she helped her,” Dean murmured, his voice losing its assurance. 

“You were strange yesterday, Dean. You said you felt something bad was going to happen.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. It wasn’t… It was just this vague feeling. If I’d known that anything like that was about to happen I would have acted on it.”

“I know. Do you remember? When it actually happened?”

Dean lowered his eyes. This time, he couldn’t seem to help but touch Sumiko, running his fingers through her soft blond hair. She pouted and sighted. 

“Not really. Something like a scream in my head. And huh… It was like at the grocery store. Like I blacked out. Then Sue was crying and you were crying and I felt really shitty because of the nosebleed, and tired. But that’s all.”

“Okay.”

Dean raised a questioning eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Dean, this… this is getting too big for me, for us.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we need help. Last night, it was…”

“Last night our unborn baby probably saved Sumiko’s life”, Dean replied.

They had kept their voices down for the whole conversation, but Dean’s irritation was perfectly audible.

“I know that. Don’t you think I know? Our unborn baby used you to help her save Sue’s life, and I’m so fucking glad she did. But it was scary, not only seeing Sue struggling for breath and then… But seeing the energy it took from you. You could’ve been hurt, Dean. The blood burst out of your nose like a freaking fountain.”

“Well, I’m fine now.”

“Yeah, and the baby's fine too, like you said. What I want you to understand is that I’m not, not at all. This pregnancy and everything that's happened because of it, it scares me to death. And I know that Sumiko’s illness has nothing to do with it, but the consequences…”

“Of her being alive?”

“No. Shit. Don’t do this to me. Don’t twist my words and make me play the bad guy here. I’m trying to be as honest as possible. I need help; I need to understand what’s going on. I can’t help but think: what if something else happens, what if the baby tries something and this time it really hurts you. Not on purpose, of course not, but like you said, she’s a twenty week old foetus the size of a grapefruit. She can’t be that conscious of the consequences of her actions. Damn it, I felt it, last night. I heard a scream in my head. A little girl’s scream.”

“So what, now you wanna bring Bobby into this?”

Dean turned abruptly, forcing Sam to stand up as he dropped his legs to the side of the bed. He looked angry and spent, his round face swollen and pale except for the brown dried blood around his nose and the dark circles under his eyes. 

“No.”

Sam shook his head. “I… it’s too late, Dean. I already called him.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I was scared. I needed answers.”

Dean nodded, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. Which was never a good sign. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. I didn’t want to explain any of this over the phone.”

“Call him back.”

“It’s too late, Dean. He’s coming. He won’t listen if I-“

A gurgle stopped Sam from going on. They both turned their heads at the same time to see Sumiko lying on her belly and smiling at them. She scrunched up her nose, looking around and seeming delighted to be in the master bedroom.

“Daa-daa-dee,” she said. It was her way of saying her father’s name, daddy Dean. 

Dean’s face crumpled right then and he took Sumiko in his arms. “Hey monkey, you look top shape this morning,” he rasped, then cleared his throat.

Sam felt the sharp sting of guilt piercing his heart all over again. He had called Bobby at four in the morning, exhausted and worried out of his mind. It had been a reflex. And maybe now, he regretted not waiting for Dean’s approval, but he was still relieved that Bobby had said he’d come, that he’d be there in two, three days max.

“What do you say about getting breakfast with Sam while I take a shower?” Dean asked Sumiko, just as if Sam wasn’t in the room with them.

Sumiko yelled mam-mam, trying to clap her hands together. 

“Dean-“

“Shut up. I’m so fucking mad, Sam, I can’t even look at you right now.” Dean said softly, handing Sumiko to him.

Sam did shut up, then. Sumiko was there, in his arms, smiling, and there had been enough drama for one night. He knew it wasn’t over though.

::: :::

Dean completely ignored Sam for the next two days, and whenever their eyes met, Dean's were so cold Sam was actually afraid he’d broken something that couldn’t be fixed. He was moving around the house, practically tip-toeing, afraid to let Sumiko out of his sight after the frightening events of Saturday night. Dean slept on the couch, which was bad enough on its own without the fact that Sam couldn’t sleep at all. He kept imagining he’d woken up at night and had found Sue’s lifeless body in her crib with this horrible grey-bluish tint on her skin, or that Dean had suffered through a freaking vision or something, and that this time it wasn’t just the nose bleed but a freaking aneurism. The last time Sam had felt so alone and desperate had been the month before Dean’s deal had come due.

He didn’t go to work on Monday, just couldn’t bring himself to leave Dean and Sue on their own for a whole day. Dean’s thunderous glare followed him through the house, but he refused to say anything. Clover came for a couple of hours and Sam took that opportunity to go to Portland to get Dean’s work for the week. Clover could clearly feel that something was off and she looked relieved when Sam told her she could leave for the day.

Around dinner time, Bobby called to say he’d be there around the same time the next day. The old hunter didn’t ask anything specific, just a vague: “Are you boys okay?” and Sam was glad. It would be hard enough telling the whole story once they were face to face, never mind having to explain over the phone.

Sam had only slept for three or four hours in the last couple of days and he knew he couldn't keep to that schedule, so when Dean settled in to sleep once again on the couch, he decided to take Sumiko with him to their bed. Maybe if he only had to worry about one person he could get some shut-eye.

He did, falling asleep while watching Sumiko, leaving his hand on his daughter’s chest. He did and he dreamed.

He found himself in Harmony, reliving Dean’s body being torn apart all over again, but this time, there was already another lifeless body on the floor, and he refused to look, because he knew he would see his daughter, already getting cold, so small and delicate, with the grimace of death on her beautiful face.

He woke up muffling a scream into his pillow, fought the covers and fell off the bed, surprised to find Dean standing next to him. His first reflex was to look at Sue, to reassure himself that she was okay, so he propped himself on his arm to see up onto the mattress.

Sumiko was still fast asleep. Dean made a shushing gesture and helped him up. “Come on. It’s a miracle you didn’t wake her up. You were practically yelling.”

Sam followed Dean without a word. They went downstairs to the kitchen. Dean poured himself a glass of milk and took out the whiskey bottle they kept under the sink, serving Sam a drink.

“Come on, bottoms up,” he said and Sam did. 

Dean sat in front of him. “I’m still freaking mad at you, Sam,” he said, but the coldness was gone from his eyes.

“I know.”

“Did I hear right? Bobby will be here tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Sam, you do realize that we can’t tell him about the baby unless he knows about you and me? Because the story without the demon blood won’t make any sense.”

“Yeah. Figured… I would start with that part and if he doesn’t punch me in the face or leave the house, calling us sick bastards, I could get on with the rest of it.”

“Awesome plan,” Dean said, sarcastically. “You had no right to do this, Sam. Even If Bobby stays long enough to actually see me, how do you think he’s gonna react?”

“Dean, listen, I know it’s easy for me, compared to what it must be like for you, but this power thing is getting out of control and we need him. He knows about the demon blood and he never gave up on us.”

Dean was shaking his head, playing with his glass of milk as if it was filled with alcohol. “I’m a pregnant man, Sam. Pregnant because of a curse, knocked up by my brother, with a baby that manifests powers in the womb. And you’re exposing me. But I can’t stay mad at you, ‘cause you’re hurting, I can tell, and I hate seeing you like this.”

“Well, then, can you understand why I did it?”

“Not really, but you've got to let it go, Sam. Give yourself a break. You were screaming your head off.”

“My daughter almost died in my arms, Dean! And then… fuck… It doesn’t do any good to keep repeating myself. I don’t regret calling Bobby, even if it means you’re going to hold a grudge against me. I’m doing this for us, for you and me, Sue, the baby.”

Dean stayed quiet for a long time. Sam knew he was torn between his anger and his need to protect Sam, to care for his family. Finally, he rubbed his tired face and sighed. “You sleep on the couch, m’going to watch over Sue for the rest of the night. And we’ll see how we deal with Bobby tomorrow.”

They weren’t alright, far from it, but it was a beginning. And Sam slept for five hours straight that night.

::: :::

_Freeport, April 27_

Strange, how life goes on despite everything. Sam went to work Tuesday, because even when your pregnant brother could suddenly collapse from a vision, there were still bills to pay. Clover was scheduled to be there that morning, but even though Dean would have help Sam had forbidden him to work on his statistic compilation. Dean was a nervous wreck, Sumiko needed to be taken care of, and the house needed to be cleaned. Although Sue looked perfectly healthy, as if she'd never been sick at all, Dean was still nursing the last remains of his cold.

To be sure Dean listened to him, Sam took the paper work with him and did most of it that morning during his slow times at the school. Then, he called Bobby, asking him not to come before he himself would be home. Dean had said he was ready to meet him, but his eyes had been wide with a fear Sam had only seen when John was still alive and mad about something.

Sam went home early. Sumiko had just woken from her nap and was full of energy, walking on her small chubby legs to meet him at the door, Dean following behind her with his arms stretched out just in case. Everything seemed so normal all of sudden it tightened Sam’s throat.

“I huh… asked Clover if she could baby-sit Sue tonight. At her place,” Dean said while Sam lifted Sumiko in his arms.

“Yeah?”

“Figured. Things could get ugly. I don’t want her here to witness it.” Dean scratched the back of his head, avoiding Sam’s gaze.

Sam didn’t like the idea, not after Saturday night, but he swallowed back his worries to give Dean a break. Clover had proven herself trustworthy so far, Sue loved her, and yeah, maybe it was better if she wasn’t in the house.

“I’ll take her there,” Dean said. “Clover is going to take care of her dinner.”

He was already getting the bags he had prepared in the lobby with nervous, quick gestures. And Sam got it all of a sudden. He grabbed his brother's arm, keeping Sumiko in the other while she babbled continuously. “Take your time. If you want me to talk to Bobby first, it’s okay.”

Dean blushed to the tip of his hears. “It’s not… Sam… Fuck. I don’t know if I can.”

“I understand that.”

Dean straightened up. He was twenty-one weeks into his pregnancy, but as far as Sam could remember from his pregnancy with Sumiko, he looked more like he was around twenty-six weeks. His belly was firm and showing, his navel had already started to jut out and the tee he was wearing under his shirt was one of those Sam had bought toward the end of his first pregnancy. Once Bobby knew, it would be evident, and until then Dean would look like he’d gained a lot of weight in a short time period. 

No way to hide himself.

“Take your time,” Sam added. “Maybe you could stop at the store to buy some beer, or grab a pizza or something.”

“Yeah, because everybody knows incest goes over so well with beer and pizza.” Dean joked nervously.

“And male pregnancies, don’t forget.”

Dean smiled in silence, not knowing how miserable and lost he looked. Five minutes later, he was taking off with Sumiko, his features relaxing only marginally when the Impala came to life.

Sam went inside and found the whiskey bottle in its normal place. He grabbed all the documentation he had kept from Dean’s first pregnancy, the research he had done so far on the baby’s powers, and sat at the table, waiting.

Five minutes later, the familiar rambling of one of Bobby’s old clunkers could be heard. And Sam served himself another drink before going outside on the porch to welcome him. 

Bobby wasn’t alone. Ellen was with him. Sam had asked Bobby not to tell anyone where he was going, but he supposed it would be difficult to hide this kind of thing from the woman he was sharing his life with, especially since that woman was as hard-headed as Ellen.

Sam realized he was only slightly annoyed to see her. Somehow he thought the whole incest issue might appear less offensive to Ellen. Why that was, he didn't know.

He smiled and raised a hand.

“She wouldn’t let me come alone,” was the first thing Bobby said. Then, he took a look at the house while Ellen was hugging Sam close. 

“Nice place. Looks better than in the photos. Where’re Dean and the kid?”

“Um… Dean will be back soon. He took Sue to her baby-sitter so we could talk in peace.”

“We gonna wait for him then?” Bobby asked, looking at Sam with those piercing eyes of his.

“No. As a matter of fact… we won’t.”

Bobby and Ellen exchanged a look Sam didn’t even try to decipher. He took them to the kitchen and made coffee for Ellen. Bobby started with the whiskey right away. 

“Is Dean okay?” Ellen asked finally while Sam was fussing with the coffee maker.

“I… well, yeah, for now, but…”

“Boy, stop fussing and tell us what the hell is going on. What have you guys been up to?”

Sam turned to face them, but couldn’t find it in himself to sit. 

“Sleeping together?” he answered, then blushed. _Gosh, way to go, Sam, what a delicate way to present things._

“What?” Bobby had paled as suddenly as Sam had blushed.

“Sweetie, we already knew that,” Ellen said.

“What?” Bobby repeated. “We knew what?”

“Come on, Bobby Singer, don’t be an idiot.”

“Sam, you made me cross half the country so you could confess… I don’t even know how to call this, ” Bobby growled and Sam felt his hands starting to shake.

“I…”

“And you knew, Ellen?” 

“I was pretty sure, although I had my doubts.”

“Sam Winchester, I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but you guys do know that what you’re doing is wrong, don't you?”

“Doesn’t feel wrong,” Sam murmured because he’d never, ever feel guilty for the love he had for Dean. That was one thing he was certain of.

Bobby still looked offended. Ellen was frowning at him. “Okay. Incest. For how long?”

“After Dean’s been saved from Hell.”

“Jesus!” Bobby said. 

Ellen, although she’d said she already knew, looked almost as shocked as Bobby. Still, she seemed to compose herself before asking: “That's not why we’re here though, is it Sam?” 

“No, it’s not. It’s… it’s barely the tip of the iceberg.”

That’s when Bobby took off his hat.

“Bobby, let’s hear what he has to say, okay? They aren't hurting anyone, so why don't you hush and we’ll deal with our moral issues later.” Ellen stated.

“Alright,” Bobby finally said, glaring severely at Sam. “What’s going on? Does this have something to do with what happened to Dean last year? That so-called illness of his?”

“Yeah.”

Sam took the papers he’d left on the counter and slowly sat. He could tell that Bobby was upset: the man looked as tense as a violin string. But he was still sitting at the table, so that in itself was a small victory. 

“About eighteen months ago, we took down a witch,” he started.

Sam related the events following Hannah McPherson’s curse as clinically as possible. He took a sheet of paper with the drawing of the symbols that had been carved on Dean’s stomach and explained exactly how Maria Baker, the New Orleans witch they had consulted, had interpreted them and told them how Dean’s body had reacted. 

“Wait? We talking male pregnancy, here?” Ellen cut him off, clearly shocked.

“I knew it was a damn curse, just couldn’t figure out what exactly,” Bobby whispered.

Sam cleared his throat and showed them some of the print outs Rania had made of Sumiko’s ultrasounds.

“So, Dean’s daughter, Sumiko… she's yours too?” Ellen asked softly, taking one of the pictures.

“Yeah.”

“How did you guys manage it?”

“Rania Suleiman,” Bobby dropped. “That’s why you needed a doctor who knew about the supernatural. “That’s why you moved so close to her.”

He explained quickly to Ellen who the young woman was while Sam served himself another drink. Gosh, he was a lightweight with alcohol, but he’d never felt so sober in his whole life.

“Dean managed to carry the baby to term?”

“Yeah. There were modifications to his body that um… allowed it. He didn’t even need a c-section.

“Holy shit,” Bobby grunted. “Never heard of a curse like that.”

“I have,” Ellen said. “Well, Bill did. His father hunted a male witch in Africa. There was a fertility statuette involved and it permitted the men of a tribe to bear the children for their wives, because pregnancy in their culture was a sign of strength and power. I don’t remember all of it, but it did work until the male witch went rogue for some reason.”

“After the delivery, Dean’s body went back to normal in a matter of hours,” Sam said, remembering his brother delirium from the fever that had taken hold of him. “And I… I never thought, I never wondered if the curse had been lifted or not after that.”

“Oh, because there's more to it,” Bobby snarled and Ellen shot him a look that Sam hoped she would never direct at him. 

“The curse wasn’t gone. It was dormant, and now…and now I-“

“Dean is pregnant again, is that it?” Ellen asked.

Sam nodded and Bobby let out a string of curses, then hit the table with his fist. 

“Bobby…” Ellen warned.

“You boys thought you could pull this off one more time? Aren’t you supposed to be the brain of the freaking Winchester family, Sam? Have you stopped and wondered what would happened if someone found out about it? A hunter gets pregnant because of a witch's curse. By his own brother! Damn it, Sam, can you imagine what the consequences might be? You were hunted because a freaking demon bled in your mouth and that was hell! This would be a hundred times worse.”

“I know,” Sam cut him off as calmly as possible, because what he heard through Bobby’s anger wasn’t disgust or mistrust or incomprehension. It was fear, for them. The fear of a father worrying about his kids.

“It was an accident,” Sam added. “We understood the risks we exposed ourselves to with Sumiko. We wouldn’t have done it again on purpose.”

“And now what’s different? What’s different, Sam, that got you calling Bobby in the middle of the night?”

“I wanna wait for Dean to tell you the rest of it. But it’s the new baby. There’s something about it… well, about her.”

“Another girl,” Ellen smiled a little. “How far along is he?”

“Twenty-one weeks.”

“Damn,” Bobby mumbled.

Sam cleared his throat. “Listen, both of you. No one can know about it. No one, not even Jo, Ellen.”

Ellen nodded. 

“And Dean didn’t want me to call you, Bobby. He didn’t want you guys to know about his… condition. It’s really hard for him, so if you can’t deal with the fact that there is a child inside him, you better leave. Because he’s already got a whole lot to deal with and he’s embarrassed and he’s scared as hell. Of Bobby.”

Bobby blushed at that. “Well I ain’t gonna do anything to him,” he mumbled.

“You’re his father figure, Bobby,” Ellen said. “And you know how Dean is.”

“Still need to wrap my head around it.”

Bobby stood up almost abruptly, putting his cap on. “M’gonna go for a walk. Take a look at the beach. We have to wait for Dean anyway.”

He left the kitchen and Sam let him go. He was relieved enough as it was. Bobby hadn't taken off. Ellen was looking at him with so much raw empathy in her eyes it was almost harder to face her.

“You guys are still here,” he said, huffing a nervous laugh. “Jesus, is it hot in here or what?”

“Sam. He just needs a little time.”

“Yeah, it’s okay… I mean it’s…”

“Must have been hard for you boys.”

Sam nodded, so close to bursting into tears he could feel it pricking his eyes.

The familiar rumble of the Impala made him freeze on the spot. “Dean's back.”

Ellen stood up and put a hand on Sam’s arm. “Let me go to him, alright?”

Sam nodded. He could see Bobby on the other side of the house, walking on the damp sand of the beach, his hands shoved in his pockets. Even with all the problems it was causing, it felt good not to be so isolated anymore.

He turned from the window and walked to the one with the view of their alley. Dean was getting out of the car with a case of beer and a large pizza box. His vest was carefully zipped up. He froze when he saw Ellen walking toward him, his shoulders slouched forward and his eyes lowering to the ground. He put the stuff on the hood of the Chevy and made a small hand gesture at the woman. 

Ellen hugged him. Dean looked shocked. He stayed tensed, didn’t even hug her back. When she let go of him, he gave a nervous laugh and scratched the back of his head. Ellen was probably talking, but Sam couldn’t be sure since she had her back to him. Dean kept his head bent, nodded from time to time. After a couple of minutes, 

Dean slowly began to unzip his vest, to Sam’s surprise, shifting from one foot to the other. Then Ellen lifted a hand and put it on his stomach. Dean looked away, and even from the distance, Sam could tell he was blushing.

He smiled. Ellen always got her way in the end, even when she was dealing with stubborn Winchester pride.

::: :::

Nobody ate much. They settled in the living room and talked. It was awkward at first. Bobby and Dean had shaken hands, both of them careful not to look at each other and not to touch elsewhere. Dean sat opposite from him, his shirt carefully covering his stomach, and stayed as immobile as possible so as not to show his stomach.

Sam did most of the talking, but when he found himself talking about Sue’s asphyxia Saturday night, he couldn’t go on. He felt the panic crawling back as the image of Sue choking replayed in his head in all its clarity. Dean gave him a look full of worry and affection and finished the telling of it for him. Ellen’s eyes widened and Bobby once again took off his hat for the last part. Dean spoke slowly, voice a bit gruff, apparently fascinated by his half eaten slice of pizza.

“I don’t know how she did it. I don’t really remember, but she did something,” he murmured in the end.

“Sue was breathing again and there were no signs she’d ever been sick,” Sam added. “Dean had a nosebleed and um… he collapsed, but he said he felt fine, just tired.”

“Sure, just tired,” Bobby said in a sarcastic tone, looking straight at Dean for the first time since he’d arrived.

“This is a lot to take in,” Ellen said, shaking her head softly. “And a lot of power for an unborn baby.”

“I think it’s because she’s using Dean,” Sam said, pulling out his research from the folder. “There have been some cases involving pregnancies.”

Bobby took a quick look at the papers, scratching his beard. “Demon blood, huh?”

“Well, that’s the most logical explanation. That, or the curse, but the blood, it’s still in me. I could’ve transmitted it. Maybe it’s in my genes.”

“You said there's something about Sumiko too?” Bobby asked.

Dean huffed. “Sam is convinced that she can sense my… moods, in some way.”

“Not only that, but she seems to feel it when the baby’s active, communicating with Dean, whatever. It worries me. I mean, the baby, she probably saved Sue’s life, but I think she could hurt Dean, and Sumiko, not on purpose, of course, but still.”

Bobby nodded again. “But what can you do about it, Sam? What can anyone do? Let’s say it’s the demon blood and assume that her power is amplified because she’s using Dean.”

“Using Dean as a vessel. That’s what Maria Baker said.”

“Yeah, let’s go with that. Is the baby the one sending Dean the nightmares about this strange figure in the woods, and was she in some way responsible for the sleepwalking episodes?”

“Maybe the baby has nothing to do with whose things,” Dean said. “Maybe it’s just hormones and stress or some other stupid reason.”

“Anyway, I’ll side with Sam and say that this could get out of control,” Bobby said.

“She’s a baby. She doesn’t mean-“ Dean murmured, and he was starting to look really annoyed.

“We know that, Dean,” Ellen cut him off gently.

“Yeah, because it’s really bad when a baby with powers saves her sister’s life.”

“Dean,” Sam tried.

But clearly, Dean was starting to get fed up. He crossed his arms over his chest and got this faraway look that told Sam he was retreating behind his walls. “No, wait, I have something to say. We’re all sitting here, discussing my freakish pregnancy and the baby, but it’s just bullshit. We don’t really know what we’re dealing with. There is nothing we can do about it and if it makes you feel better because you can discuss this with people other than me, fine Sam, go for it. The truth is, this conversation we're having right now, it doesn’t solve anything, if there ever even was something to solve.”

“I need to know, Dean.”

“Yeah, you always do. Newsflash, geekboy: I’m the one with this baby inside me, I’m the one Bobby won’t even look in the eyes. And this, all of this, it doesn’t help us at all.”

“Boy-“ Bobby started when Dean stood up abruptly.

“I need to go get Sumiko,” Dean said sharply. “But hey, you guys go on, keep talking about my incestuous, supernatural baby.”

On those words, Dean left the living room.

“Geez, I’m sorry,” Sam said when the silence became too much. He heard the front door slamming shut and couldn’t help but jump.

“Don’t. This isn't easy for him,” Ellen said. “He already went through something like this when your father told him about you. He’s scared.”

“Sam, what is it exactly that you want to know?” Bobby asked, still looking at Sam’s research.

“I want Dean and Sue to be okay. I want to know if there's something the baby has been trying to tell us with the dreams and visions, other than her warnings at the grocery store and the way she helped Sue. Dean… Dean had a nightmare where he was pregnant, close to term, and he was trapped somewhere, and it scares me. I want to know if there is a way to control the baby's powers.”

“Okay, boy. I get you.”

“You do?” Ellen asked, rising an eyebrow at him.

“We've rented a room nearby in a motel. I’ll settle in there and try to find something.”

“We’ll settle in there,” Ellen corrected.

“You could stay here.”

“I don’t think Dean would appreciate that much,” Bobby mumbled. “It’s better this way. M’going to try to find a way to help you guys.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Bobby looked tired and old, suddenly. It was a shock to Sam to see Ellen taking his hand and he felt a bit stupid. They were a couple, after all.

“You won’t say anything, to anyone, right?”

“Who do you think I am, some high school gossip girl?”

Sam smiled despite himself. A few minutes later, he was walking Ellen and Bobby to their car. Now, the only thing left for him to do was to deal with his brother.

::: :::

 

 **A/N** : _An epiglottitis is a real disease, and it’s a life-threatening situation since the airways can close very suddenly. Thirty years ago, it was not that uncommon with young children but it’s rare nowadays, with the event of vaccination against lots of illness that could lead to epiglottitis as a complication. The only liberty I took was with Dr. Lenner’s diagnosis, since I think she may have found Sumiko’s epiglottis already red and swollen, so my apologies to all the pediatricians in the world._

_On the matter of Bobby and Ellen, I know that in a lot of fics, Bobby just accept the incest situation without fussing about it. I couldn’t write him that way. This is in no way a disavow or a way to make you dislike the character, just, for me, it was the most realistic way to have him and Ellen react. Don’t you worry, he’ll come around eventually. You just got to give him a little time. And it’s not because he has trouble with Sam and Dean’s relationship that he would give up on them._

_< 3_

_Little Star_


	8. Chapter 8

_Freeport, April 30_

When Dean’s fingers tightened their grip in Sam’s hair, he swallowed and sucked a little harder, attentive to the small moans escaping his brother’s throat. One of Sam’s hands was pressing and playing with Dean’s fluttering hole, the other rested on the swell of his belly. Dean was probably too far gone to really realize it, or Sam was sure he wouldn’t have allowed it.

It reassured Sam, doing this, taking care of Dean in the most intimate way possible, feeling the swell of his belly where their child was nested. He was taking his time, alternating between strong suction and small kitten licks of his tongue. Dean was shivering and tensing, then relaxing. His smell was saturating Sam’s nostrils and his own cock was painfully hard, but he didn’t want to touch it, wanted to keep his hands, his mouth, on his brother.

“Sam,” Dean finally whispered, short of breath.

Sam wanted-no, he _needed_ to see his face. He let go of the hot and hard shaft, watching how it slapped, wet and messy, against Dean’s stomach.

Dean’s head was raised. He kept his hands in Sam’s hair, his grip tightening and releasing compulsively. His face was red, his hair a spiky mess. His eyes were half closed and he was frowning, almost like he was in pain.

“Wanna come,” Dean panted. “Make me come.”

Sam nodded, licking his lips, and took Dean’s cock back into his mouth, sucking hard while his fingers found the entrance of Dean’s canal and he pushed two of them inside, helped by the mix of saliva and precome that was sliding down his dick. He swallowed a couple of times, quirked his fingers in just the right way, and Dean tensed all over, his body shaken by a wave of small jerks as his hips jumped forward and he spilled his seed in Sam’s mouth, letting out a loud, keening sound.

Sam sucked him dry and let go of his cock, resting his head in the dip of his hip, rubbing soothing circles over his belly. It took Dean some time to come back from his high, but soon enough, he was manhandling Sam so that he lay next to him, then went down on his cock with an eagerness that triggered Sam’s orgasm almost immediately. Dean deep-throated him and tugged on his sensitive sac, and Sam was coming hard and fast, his pleasure white-hot, trapping his breath in his throat until at last he could let it out in a stuttering groan of pleasure.

They were silent for a few seconds, then Dean let out a small laugh.

“What?” Sam asked, rising on one elbow.

“Nothing. Just… That was nice.” Dean shrugged, his eyes shining in the soft light of the moon.

“Yeah, it was.”

After the week they’d just been through, Sam understood perfectly all the meaning hiding behind Dean’s simple words. It was Friday night, and tomorrow they would try the only solution Bobby had come up with after three days of research.

Sam knew Dean was worried about it. What was probably worse was the fact that Dean was certain it would fail. And according to everything Bobby had told Sam, maybe he was right. Some people were resistant to hypnosis and Dean, stubborn, strong-headed and always careful to hide his feelings, fit this profile.

Sam would be the one conducting the session. He had been surprised when Bobby had told him, he'd insisted that it was probably better that the old hunter do it himself, but Bobby had explained to him that right now, Dean would be more willing to follow the suggestions of someone he trusted, someone he looked up to. And right now, there was this awkwardness between the two men. Dean was embarrassed and uneasy around Bobby. Bobby had trouble looking at Dean. Sam knew that eventually, things would settle down between the two of them, although he wasn’t sure the whole incest issue would ever sit well with Bobby. It was easier with Ellen. On Thursday night, she had spent the evening with Dean while Sam and Bobby were working on the hypnosis theory and when Sam had gotten back home, he’d found the both of them talking quietly in the living room. Dean had quickly shut up when he’d seen Sam, but he was pretty sure they'd been talking about their respective labors and deliveries. Ellen had a maternal, gruff way that put Dean at ease and Sam supposed that was something he could never share with him, the feeling of having a baby growing inside of him and everything that came with it.

Dean yawned, settling himself more comfortably. “I’m not totally convinced about tomorrow’s experiment, you know.”

“All I’m asking is for you to give it a chance.”

Even if Dean didn’t believe in hypnosis, Sam thought it was their best chance at understanding something about what had been happening to him since the beginning of the pregnancy. It was Bobby’s best guess anyway. All the research he’d done hadn’t given them many results. 

With hypnosis, Bobby thought they could have Dean explain more clearly, in a suggestive state, what exactly his connection to the baby was, what kind of things she’d been showing or telling him. He would maybe be able to remember the sleepwalking episodes and make sense of the dreams that were plaguing him. Starting from there, if the results were good, they would maybe be able to come up with better ways of dealing with it.

That was Bobby’s theory anyway. He’d called a psychic friend of his, named Pamela Barns, and asked for some advice. She’d given him the recipe for a mixture of herbs that were supposed to induce the hypnotic state more easily and Sam had made sure none of them were toxic for the foetus before preparing the potion.

They were set. Sam had studied some of the easiest and most effective ways to induce and conduct a hypnosis session and he thought he could manage it, if Dean would only really try and let himself go.

“Sam, you there?”

“Yeah, just thinking.”

Sam turned toward Dean, who was already half asleep, and kissed him on the side of his neck just below the ear, making him shiver.

“I think it will work,” he murmured.

“Mmm,” was Dean’s answer before he fell asleep.

::: :::

It was a Saturday. They would proceed during Sumiko’s nap in the afternoon. Ellen would be there to take care of her if she woke up before the end of the experiment.

Right after lunch, Sam prepared the herb concoction, filtering it so that, basically, all Dean would have to do was to drink half a glass of greenish water. During this time, Dean was putting Sumiko to sleep and had been ordered to go lie down on the bed and remain as calm as possible, to which Dean had snorted incredulously and joked about maybe jerking off.

Bobby and Ellen arrived shortly thereafter. Bobby was adamant about going over the method they would be using: a progressive hypnotic induction rather than a quicker method seemed the best way to go with Dean, since he’d be on the defensive no matter how serious he was about this. That was just his nature. Sam would have to use a confident, even authoritarian voice. “Remember, boy, you’re not the little brother now, okay?”

Sam nodded.

“How’s Dean?”

“Okay, I guess.”

Of course, Dean made a big case about how disgusting the herb beverage was with lots of grimacing and eye rolling. 

“Come on, stop fussing, time to get this show on the road,” Bobby told him and Dean nodded, because that was basically the only thing he was capable of doing now with Bobby, nodding or shaking his head. He followed Sam to the living room where all the curtains had been closed and a pillow settled on the couch as well as a video camera ready to record.

“Really?” Dean asked, pointing at it. 

“Lie down on the couch, head on the pillow,” Sam ordered gently. 

“Yeah, but why do you have to film this?”

“In case we miss anything,” Ellen said from behind the camera, ready to turn it on.

Dean took a last dubious look at Sam and lay down in a semi-sitting position, his head resting on the pillow, wiggling his hips and looking so stiff it was as if he was lying on a nail plank.

Sam was ready. He sat on a chair next to the couch. Bobby took his place behind it, ready to guide Sam if he needed help.

“You guys know this isn't going to work, right?” Dean asked, but his voice wasn’t confident or smug, more like he secretly hoped it wouldn’t work and hell, that would just make things more difficult.

“You promised you’d try,” Sam reminded him.

“Yeah, okay. You won’t like… make me do the chicken dance or sing something silly, right?”

“I can’t promise anything.”

“Shut up,” Dean smiled, his eyes crinkling. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Nothing, just follow my instructions.”

“Okay.”

Sam took the silver coin from his pocket and angled it so that it would catch the light from the table lamp nearby. The object didn’t really matter, but it was easier with something that shined. The angle was perfect for Dean to look directly at it with his head slightly turned toward Sam, just above his eye level.

“All you have to do is look at this, Dean. Don't think about anything else, stay as relaxes as possible and stare at the coin. All you’re going to hear is the sound of my voice, alright?”

Dean nodded. He was already staring, frowning slightly.

Sam started with the muscle relaxation technique, explaining to Dean how relaxed he felt, starting his toes and naming each body part in turn. Dean kept staring.

“Now Dean, your whole body is heavy. You feel warm and comfortable. Your head is heavy too and you want to sleep.”

Dean kept looking at the coin.

“It’s actually hard to keep your eyes open.”

Dean’s mouth opened slightly and he blinked, slower than usual. This was the most delicate moment of the induction, the point when Dean would either resist or let himself go and trust completely in Sam. Sam repeated slowly, how nice it would be to fall asleep. “Your eyelids are dropping. You wanna close your eyes now.”

Dean blinked once more, and then his eyes opened, but only to slits. His breathing was slowing down, getting deeper.

“That’s it, Dean, you’re gonna sleep now. Your eyes will close on the count of five and then they’ll remain closed.

Dean tried to open his eyes, but couldn’t quite achieve it. Sam counted and when he reached five, the frown on Dean’s face disappeared, and his eyelids remained closed.

Sam huffed and slowly dropped the silver dollar on the coffee table. He was sweating; his heart was beating hard and fast in his chest. Bobby gave him an appreciative look, and he felt ridiculously proud.

But that was only the beginning.

“Now Dean, all you can hear is the sound my voice,” he said with a commanding tone. “It’s the only thing that matters right now. Do you understand?”

Dean frowned without opening his eyes.

“You can answer me. Do you understand, Dean?”

“…Yeah,” Dean said softly, his voice barely a whisper, low and gruff.

“I’m going to ask you some questions and you’re going to answer them. You're feeling really good, so relaxed. You're completely safe. Do you understand?”

“…Yeah.”

“That's great, Dean. You're doing fine. Now repeat after me: this can’t hurt you or the baby. We’re just talking.”

“Can’t hurt the baby,” Dean slurred. “Can’t hurt me, s’just talking.”

“That’s right. And you are going to stay relaxed, no matter what I say. You feel good and relaxed, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean added a small nod of his head.

“Now, let’s talk about the baby. Our little girl. You have a connection with her, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean said quickly.

“Can you tell me about it.”

“… Can feel her, all the time. Can… can feel… her presence.”

“But that's normal because she’s inside of you.”

Dean looked slightly annoyed. “No, s’different. Can feel her in my mind. Always with me.”

“Okay. Is she the one who's been sending you those dreams?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s all right. Let’s try something else, okay? You remember that time at the grocery store?”

Dean's eyes moved rapidly under his eyelids.

“We were shopping in the produce section, and we stopped by the cherry stall," Sam prompted.

“Cherries,” Dean said. “I brought oranges.”

“Yes, that's right.”

“So hungry, all the time.”

“Yes, Dean, but that’s not what’s important now. We were by the cherries and something happened. Do you remember what happened?”

“Watch out for your brother, Dean,” Dean rasped. His voice had changed register. It was higher than usual and had this almost robotic cadence.

Sam exchanged a look with Bobby.

“Is that what the baby told you?”

“I don’t know,” Dean’s normal voice was back.

“Dean, can the baby see the future?”

“I… She doesn’t know. Sometimes. She doesn’t understand…”

“Did she warn you to get us away from the cherry stall?”

“Watch out for your brother, Dean. Lights. Be careful it’s sharp. Hurt. It hurts,” Dean’s robotic voice replied.

“Is this… Dean is this the baby talking?”

“She’s a baby,” Dean said, visibly upset. “She doesn’t know. She…”

“Boy, you gotta keep him calm,” Bobby whispered.

“Dean. Everything is alright. Nothing can hurt you, nothing can hurt the baby. We’re just talking, okay?”

Dean took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“Now I’m going to ask you a question and you won’t be upset about it. Nod if you understand.”

As if it takes a great deal of effort, Dean nodded his head once.

“You're doing great, Dean. Now, is the baby using you to help her with-“

“Vessel, because I’m a vessel. What the hell does that mean. Supernatural beings. You’re a vessel, Dean. Vessel, you’re a vessel.”

The high-pitched, robotic voice was back. Dean’s body was starting to tense, his feet pushing against the couch’s armrest, his arm stretching in front of him.

“It’s like the baby is taking control,” Ellen whispered. “Maybe we should stop.”

Sam ignored her. “Dean, I’m talking to you. You have to listen to me, only to my voice. You have to stay calm, remember?”

Dean relaxed, but his eyes were still moving under his eyelids.

“Dean, do you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m talking to you. Only you, okay?”

“She’s a baby,” Dean answered.

“Dean?”

“She doesn’t know. She’s scared.”

“Hey. It’s alright. We know that. No one wants to hurt her, okay? She’s safe.”

Dean frowned again, then shook his head from left to right.

“Watch out for your brother, Sammy,” he moaned.

“Dean?”

Both of Dean’s hands suddenly settled over his stomach. He tilted his head backwards and bent his legs at the knees. When he spoke again, the robotic voice was back, only quicker, like Dean –or the baby- didn’t have enough time to say everything he wanted to say.

“Take your brother outside as fast as you can, now, Dean, run. Your brother, your brother your brother hurts. Hurts.”

“Dean, calm down.”

Dean shook his head violently. “Burns, it’s dark, m’scared, Dean. Don’t be. She isn’t breathing, she isn’t, do something! Dad is gone you gotta help me find him, dad is gone, dad, dad the huntress is coming she no! No, stop stop please, Dianna. Watch out for your brother, Sammy. Can’t see shit in this it hurts!”

“Dean, listen to me-“

“Sam, you have to stop it-“ Bobby said.

“M’trying, I can’t-“

“Baby baby baby you’re a vessel, you’re a vessel and please! Please help him please help us she's dead the thing that killed mom gotta help me find him-“

“Sam, take control, now!” Bobby ordered.

Dean's back arched and he brought his hands to his face. Tears were flowing from his closed eyes.

“Dean, listen!”

“No, hurts! Hurts hurts hurts daddy please!” Dean screamed. “Dark sister she's coming for you and dad! You gotta help me find dad!”

“Dean, stop it!” Sam said as loud as he could.

Dean did. He was panting harshly, his hands were grabbing the distended cotton of his shirt, tearing at it.

“Dean, listen to my voice, now,” Sam added. “Do you hear me?”

“Yeah,” Dean moaned.

“Nothing can hurt you, remember?”

Dean shook his head.

“On the count of five, you’re going to wake up, okay. You’re feeling relaxed and calm. You're ready to wake up, now. Everything is fine, okay.”

“Yeah.”

“Here we go. One. Two, three, four, five.”

Dean’s eyes opened wide. He grabbed Sam’s arm, looking confused and tired but relatively intact.

“Sammy?”

“Hey, you okay?”

“It worked,” Dean mumbled. He passed a hand over his face and seemed surprise to find it wet with tears.

“Yeah, kind of. How are you feeling?”

“Hung over and… _God, Sam._ ”

“Dean, what?”

“What’s going on?” Bobby asked.

“She’s…” Dean’s face crumpled in a grimace of pain. Then his eyes got incredibly wide, like he was seeing something. His head lolled to the side and he let out a long, hoarse scream.

“Sam?” Ellen asked.

“I don’t know what’s-“

Sam froze. The living room faded and a sudden, sharp pain exploded behind his eyes. A voice screamed in his head with so much strength he was sure his brain was going to burst. _HURTS!_ A little girl's voice was crying. _HURTS HURTS HURTS!_

Sam shook his head. He could feel Ellen’s hand on his arm. Dean’s whole body was as tense as a bow string, blood was flowing from his nose and somewhere, a baby was crying. Sam felt panic wash over him when he realized those cries weren’t in his head. They were Sue’s.

He tried to stand, but got hit by a dizzy spell and fell back on the chair. Ellen was quicker than him. He saw her running out of the living room. Bobby was now kneeling near the couch, propping Dean up. “Dean? Come on, boy, snap out of it. Dean!”

Dean’s body went lax and he fell against the armrest. If Bobby hadn’t been there he would have fallen to the floor. 

Sam took off his shirt and pressed it against Dean’s nose.

“Dean, you coming back?”

“Come on, boy,” Bobby said, pressing his knuckles against Dean’s chest.

“Damn it, Bobby, stop, it hurts,” Dean mumbled.

“Sam?”

It was Ellen. Her voice was shaking. Sam stood up, swaying a little on his feet. Sue’s cries were quieter now. She had both of her arms wrapped around the woman’s neck and was looking at Dean, crying his name over and over again. No more daa-daa-dee this time, just a very clear daa-dee.

But none of it mattered when Sam saw the small rivulet of blood that was dripping from Sumiko’s nose.

::: :::

When Sam finally got out of the hospital, Sue was sleeping soundly in his arms, still knocked out by the sedative they had given her in order to do her head scan. It was almost seven in the evening. As soon as Sue was settled on her baby seat, Sam took out his cellphone and called home. Bobby answered on the first ring.

“Sam? How’s the kid?”

“Fine.” Sam shifted the Impala into gear. “The head scan showed no anomalies. She’s alright. How’s Dean?”

“Still sleepin’. Ellen’s with him.”

“I’ll be home in half an hour.”

It was probably one of the longest thirty minutes of Sam’s life. Now that he was reassured about Sumiko’s health, he needed to be with Dean. The physical distance was almost unbearable. He was exhausted, had had to fight with the E.R. doctor to get him to send Sumiko to the radiology department for an x-ray. The man had found her neurologic signs perfectly normal, and since there wasn’t any evidence she had hit her head, a small nosebleed wasn’t a reason to get a scan, he had told Sam who, of course, couldn’t just explain to him that she had suffered the repercussions of her unborn baby sister's manifestation of power. 

"Just do the damn exam, I’m telling you to do it!” Sam had growled, looking as imposing as he could. “Damn it, our insurance will cover the procedure, it’s not like you’re the one who’s going to pay for it!” 

The doctor had sniffed with disdain, explaining to Sam that it was quite complicated, since children this young had to be sedated for them to stay immobile during the exam. That’s what it had been, Sam had thought. The man didn’t want to spend his precious time on a complicated procedure. One look from Sam and he had stopped arguing all of a sudden.

Sumiko was alright, that was what really counted. Sam couldn’t care less about a frustrated E.R. doctor. 

This madness had to stop, he told himself for the hundredth time. Dean had been hurt. Sumiko wasn’t even one year old, and even though this time there had been no serious consequences, they’d only been lucky.

Sam’s brain had been in hyperactive mode since he had left Dean to take Sumiko to the hospital, and he was starting to think maybe he had a solution. He’d have to speak with Bobby first and get Dean’s approval, but maybe there was a way.

Sumiko barely stirred when he took her out of her car seat and into the house. A nurse had warned him that the sedative would last for a least another couple of hours. He made a sign to Bobby, who was waiting for him in the kitchen, drinking a beer, and went right upstairs to put Sumiko to bed. He changed her diaper and put her in her pajamas while she fought sleep and tried to smile at him, but as soon as she was lying in her bed, she turned on her stomach and started snoring softly.

Sam walked to their bedroom, where Ellen was sitting on a chair near the bed. Dean was an immobile lump under the covers.

Ellen came to meet him on the doorstep. “Bobby told me Sue is okay?”

“Yeah, she is,” Sam whispered back. “How’s Dean?”

“Woke up a couple of times because he was thirsty and worried about Sue. I gave him some Tylenol and tried to reassure him. He kept saying that he was okay, that the baby was okay, he didn’t need a check-up.”

Dean had made it clear that he didn’t want Rania to know about the baby’s powers. Sam could understand that. The fewer people knew, the more safe the baby would be.

“It’s getting dangerous for Dean, Sam,” Ellen murmured. “And Sue.”

“I know. I… It’s not worth it, trying to make sense of it,” Sam sighed. “I think I have an idea, but I still have to think it through.”

Ellen rubbed Sam’s arm softly. “Want us to stay tonight?”

“No. We’ll be okay. Could you tell Bobby I’ll call him tomorrow morning?”

“F’course, sweetie. And if anything happens in between-“

“Yeah, I’ll give you a call.”

Ellen smiled one last time and left the room. Sam sat on the bed, waiting to hear Bobby and Ellen leave the house. He needed this, the intimacy. Taking a deep breath, he uncovered Dean’s sleeping form and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Dean jumped and woke up suddenly, lifting himself on his elbows and looking at Sam with blood shot eyes.

“Take it easy, Dean.”

“Sue?”

“Sumiko his fine. I got the doctor to give her a head scan. It came back normal.”

“Okay,” Dean mumbled. “Okay…”

He fell back on the pillow, rubbing at his face. “This has gotta stop, Sam. This… it’s hurting her.”

“Yeah, but don’t worry about Sue for now, it-“

“Not Sumiko. The baby.”

“What?”

“I remember everything, ya’ know, the hypnosis. Like I was dreaming awake. It took a lot of her, and then afterwards, I don’t know what she was trying to show us or tell us and maybe it doesn’t even matter because I felt her pain.”

“But you told us she was alright.”

“She is. It hurts her… like, psychologically, I guess?”

“God, Dean.”

“She doesn’t do it on purpose. She doesn’t want to hurt anybody.”

“I know that.”

“She saved Sue’s life,” Dean repeated again, like he’d done so often in the last week. “But she could hurt her without knowing it and she… she suffers from it too.”

Dean’s anxiety was almost palpable. 

“I think I know how to stop all of this,” Sam said. “I’m not sure if it’ll work, and you have to trust me on this, but I think there’s a way.”

“Good,” Dean said and, in his eyes, Sam could see the complete trust he had in him.

::: :::

“Sam, you sure?...”

“I’m not sure about anything, Bobby, but hey, if you have a better idea, shoot.”

Sam could hear Dean and Ellen talking in the lobby. He had asked Ellen to take Sumiko and drive away from home, putting at least a thirty mile distance between her and the location of the hypnotism session. Hopefully, the physical distance would spare Sumiko from suffering any adverse effects if anything was to go wrong. Of course, Sam hadn’t any proof that it would change anything.

He slowly filtered the herb concoction.

“Look,” he finally told Bobby. "I don’t care if she’s trying to tell us something. I don’t think she is. She picks images right out of Dean’s brain and it’s because of him she can manage so much power. She told us. He's a vessel. She kept repeating it.”

“I’ve watched the tape from yesterday, “ Bobby told him. “And I’m like you, I can’t make any sense of it. But this baby, it did save your daughter’s life, Sam.”

“I know, but what are the odds that Sue will need to be saved again in the next few months? And Dean isn’t doing well. Fuck, you saw him Bobby.”

“Yeah. He won’t get through another episode like that one without having some lasting consequences.”

Sam nodded. “If we hadn’t tried that hypnosis session, none of this would have happened. But on the other hand, it showed us how bad it can get. I mean, I’m at work all day, and what if the baby feels something, or wants to show something to Dean, and I’m not there to stop his nose from bleeding, to make sure Sue is okay. It has to stop.”

It was Sunday, and there was a soft, warm wind agitating the waves outside, making everything that had happened the day before seem like a distant, surreal dream. But the signs of exhaustion on Dean’s face were nothing but real. 

“They’re gone,” his brother announced, walking slowly into the kitchen.

“We’ll get settled then,” Bobby said, quickly shifting his eyes away from Dean’s stomach.

“Now, come on, Bobby, that’s enough,” Dean growled, snatching the small cup from Sam’s hand. I’m pregnant, get over it. You didn’t seem to have any problem being inches away from my freaking belly yesterday afternoon when I was choking on my own blood.”

Dean drank the potion in one large gulp, grimacing and shuddering. Bobby remained silent.

“So, Dean, ready?” Sam asked.

“No, I just drank that shitty tea because I’m a masochist.”

“Come on.”

“You sure about this?”

The base of hypnosis was suggestion, right? So Sam looked at Dean straight in the eyes and said, “Yes, this is going to work.”

They each took the same positions as they had the day before, and even though Dean seemed annoyed with the camera again, he didn’t say a word. He was starting to look, if not sleepy, already relaxed, and there was a reason for this since Sam had increase the concentration of the herbs in the concoction.

There they were once again, Sam flashing the silver dollar, telling Dean how his muscles were relaxed and how sleepy he felt. After the countdown, he started his instructions. 

“Now Dean, all you can hear, all you can concentrate on, is my voice. Nod if you understand.”

Dean nodded softly, his face relaxed, his eyes closed

“The baby is fast asleep inside of you.”

“Repeat after me: she's so deeply asleep that she won’t be able to hear anything we say.”

Dean frowned as if he was resisting, but it lasted all of about one second. He calmly repeated everything Sam had said.

“She won’t be able to feel anything while we talk,” Sam added.

Dean repeated.

“It’s just you and me, Dean, alright?”

“Me and you, Sammy. She's sleeping.”

“That’s right, Dean. You're doing really well.”

The first tricky part seemed to have worked so far. Sam brushed his long hair away from his face and exchanged an encouraging look with Bobby.

He then told Dean he wanted him to imagine a rope in his mind, a thick, solid white rope, made of hundreds of threads. He insisted on Dean describing it, to be sure he could see it in his mind.

“Now, Dean, this rope, it’s the link between the baby and you, the same link there is between each unborn baby and its mother.”

“Yes,” Dean answered, apparently convinced.

Sam went on with the description of the rope, asked Dean if he could see some golden threads mixed in with the white ones. There weren't a lot, but they were there, and those golden threads were what made the special connection between Dean and the baby possible. 

Dean resisted and Sam repeated it carefully. 

“Those threads, you don’t need them. The baby doesn’t either. We’re gonna cut them.”

“Special connection with the baby. She needs me, she-“

“I know, Dean, and the rope will still be there, solid and strong. We’re just going to cut the golden threads. Can you see them?”

Dean nodded, even if the muscles of his face were tense with anxiety. Sam told him again and again that it wouldn’t hurt the baby, or him, to cut those gold threads. It would be safer for the both of them, for Sumiko as well, and finally, finally, Dean’s features relaxed a little.

“I’m gonna cut them. The golden threads.” He said.

“You can cut them with a pair of scissors and the rest of the rope will remain intact.”

“My Bowie,” Dean mumbled and Sam couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, you can use your Bowie knife.”

Bobby rolled his eyes.

Dean frowned, like he needed concentration to accomplish the task. 

“Done,” he said with a certain satisfaction.

“No more golden threads?”

“No.”

“The rope is still there, though, the normal link you have with your baby is there.”

Dean repeated. He looked at peace. Sam reinforced the suggestion and told him he would feel good about it, that there wasn’t anything to fear. When he was sure that Dean had really assimilated all of this, he woke him up with a certain nervousness.

Dean blinked lazily and looked at Sam.

“So?” He asked.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel…” Dean slowly propped himself up until he was sitting. He shook his head vigorously. “Holy shit, Sam, what did you do to me?”

“What?”

“She’s gone. Fuck, she’s gone, I can’t…”

Dean stood up. Apparently, the suggestion about feeling good hadn’t been that effective. “I can’t feel her in my head anymore.”

“That was the goal, Dean.”

“I don’t like it. It’s… strange. S’like I…”

He sat back down. “Call Rania,” he said.

“What? Does it hurt? Is it-”

“No, Sam! But it’s… it's like she’s not there anymore. I need to be sure.”

“But what am I gonna tell her?”

“I don’t fucking care, I need to know.”

Bobby and Sam exchanged a look. It seemed like the hypnosis suggestion was really working.

::: :::

Rania could see them in the afternoon. By then, Ellen was back with Sue who seemed perfectly fine. She and Bobby stayed with the little girl while Sam took Dean to the doctor under the pretense that Dean had felt some light cramping. The ultrasound didn’t reveal anything abnormal. The foetus was moving, her heart was beating at a good rate, and her development was still following its own pattern. Dean seemed relieved, but he was really quiet on the drive back. He’d asked Sam to drive and for the first ten minutes, all he did was stare out the window.

“Dean, please say something.”

“I… I suppose we did what was best,” Dean finally murmured, one of his hands resting on the swell of his stomach. “We couldn’t go on like that.”

“It’s better this way.”

“You really think it’s going to hold, this… hypnotic suggestion, or whatever?”

“I don’t know. It’s supposed to. We’ll take it one day at a time, right?”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, I guess.”

After a long, silent minute, he cleared his throat. “What if she resents me?”

“The baby?”

“Yeah. I mean… I…”

Dean swallowed loudly. He just couldn’t go on.

“Dean. It’s a foetus. You said it yourself, she isn’t really conscious of what she’s been doing. You don’t have to feel guilty about it.”

Dean nodded, but it lacked conviction. Sam drove, leaving him to his thoughts. It was a good thing, he kept repeating to himself. He’d made the right decision. Sumiko had been suffering from this, Dean had been too. Even the baby, according to his brother.

Why did it feel like he was missing the big picture? Like there was a piece of the puzzle missing that he just couldn’t find?

Sam hoped that uneasy feeling would fade away soon.

::: :::

Bobby and Ellen left that evening. Jo was waiting for them in Nevada, needed some help with a shifter case she and her husband were having trouble with.

There was more to it. Sam could understand that Bobby still felt uneasy in their presence, especially Dean's. He wouldn’t give up on them, not ever, but Sam wonder if he’d be able to get over the incest issue. For him, it was worse than the male pregnancy curse because Sam nor Dean couldn't have avoided the curse. It was the work of a witch. As for the incest, Sam and Dean were the solely responsible for that.

It was different for Ellen, but Sam suspected she’d been able to deal with it mostly for Bobby’s sake. That night before they left, while Bobby was talking with a hunter on the phone and Dean was upstairs putting Sumiko to bed, she and Sam sat on the porch, sharing a beer.

“What are you guys going to do when the baby’s born?” Ellen asked suddenly.

“About what?”

“Well, Bobby was right, if other hunters find out about your situation, they’ll become as dangerous as any supernatural creature.”

“Ellen, I know you and Bobby think it’s wrong, the relationship Dean and I have but-“

“It’s not how things are supposed to be and you know it. But I mean... I’ve seen what you boys have been through over the last few years, and I don’t blame you for the turn your brotherly bond took. You were always so close to each other. We live in a fucked-up world, Sam, and if you guys can take comfort in the relationship you’re sharing, well that’s the end of the story for me. Bobby, though, he blames himself-“

“What? Why?”

“He feels like he failed your father somehow.”

“He didn’t. Dean and I… we’re kind of… happy, I mean, despite the curse and the baby’s powers and… Dean spent months blaming himself when we first…well, you know. And I won’t allow him to go through all that again because Bobby can’t deal with it.”

Ellen looked at Sam, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’ve changed, Sam. It was always Dean being the big brother, protecting you. Tables are turned now, right? You stubborn Winchesters. You remind me of John.”

“Well, I don’t plan on hunting demons and leaving my daughters to themselves in a motel room, that’s for sure.”

Ellen smiled. “You’ve grown through all of this. M’not saying it’s a bad thing. As for Bobby, he loves you guys too much to give up on you just because you share the same bed. He needs more time. And yeah, maybe he’ll never totally be okay with it, but he’ll manage.”

“It hurts Dean a lot to see Bobby acting so uncomfortable around him.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t just Bobby’s fault. Dean is embarrassed about his condition. He’s closing himself off from Bobby. You’d probably act the same way.”

“Yeah… maybe.”

“Anyway, what I’m trying to tell you is that this, all of this, it puts you –and your daughters- in danger. You boys have to be very careful.”

“We know.” Sam sighed.

“When the baby’s born, do you plan to use the same story as you did with Sumiko, cause you know, it’s gonna be hard to believe.”

“We still don’t know how we’re going to explain it. Hell, we haven't had much time to think with everything that’s been going on.”

“Well, you should, Sam. Because sooner or later, it could come back to bite you in the ass. You can count on Bobby and me. We won’t tell a soul, but still…”

Ellen couldn’t finish her sentence. Bobby stepped outside, apparently ready to go. He shook Sam’s hand, told him to take care of his “little family” and to call if anything else happened. When Dean joined them, the old hunter shook his hand too, but neither of them looked at each other. Ellen hugged Dean and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed, mumbling his thanks for the help.

Still, relief was perfectly visible on his face when Bobby and Ellen finally took off. 

Sam remained standing on the porch for a long time, thinking about his conversation with Ellen. He’d do anything to protect Dean and the kids against everything and everyone. He closed his hands into fists without even realizing it and, when Dean snapped his fingers in front of him, he jumped in surprise.

“You coming inside?”

“Yeah. How do you feel?”

“Empty, but I suppose it’ll pass.”

“Are you glad they’re gone?”

“The truth?”

“F’course.”

“Yeah. I’m glad they came to help, even if you did ask them behind my back, but I doubt they’ll ever get what’s between us, and you know what?”

“What?”

“It’s frustrating. I’m done feeling guilty about having a relationship with you. I’m… It’s good, what's between us and I don’t care if it’s wrong. I wouldn't want our life to be any other way.”

Dean turned on his heels and went inside. Sam was left alone on the porch. Smiling. And suddenly, everything looked a little brighter.

::: :::

 **A/N** : _Do not forget that this story is AU from the end of season 3, so Sam and Dean have barely any knowledge at all about the fact that they’re vessels. Also, they’ve never met Pamela Barns and never witness her hypnotize someone (like she does with Anna in season 4)_


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: _Okay, so after the three last chapters, I thought it would be nice to take a breather. So beware: ahead is an unreasonable amount of schmoop and a slice of domestic life._  
<3

::: :::

_Freeport, May 14_

Driving under the sun, through the light traffic, Sam sang to himself. He didn’t even know the name of the song –it was one of the current top-40 that kept playing on the student’s radio station during his lunch break. Spring in Maine was especially beautiful and Sam felt like he had no worries at all, which was great. Two weeks had passed since Dean’s second hypnosis session and everything had changed for the best if you asked him. Dean slept well at night, had had no more strange premonitions or messages or images sent by the baby. He also looked better, despite the fact that he was still putting on way too much weight for his liking. Since the beginning of the pregnancy, he had put on more than twenty-three pounds and there were still three months to go. Rania was a little worried, basically because she was afraid Dean might start suffering from high blood pressure, which would lead to preeclampsia, which would lead, to quote her, “to a shitty situation that I don’t want to think about”, but so far, so good. Dean’s vitals remained normal.

They would have to let Clover go sooner than they had thought at first, though. Dean wasn’t just gaining weight. His belly was swelling in that particular way that that was all too recognizable as belonging to a pregnant woman. Sam was kind of amazed to realize that this time, though, the shape of Dean’s belly wasn’t the same as it had been with Sumiko. It was less… pointy, larger, like the baby was stretched out and resting solely on Dean’s hips.

Still. In public, Dean could pass for a chubby guy with a taste for beer, but in the intimacy of their home, Clover had been witnessing the changes on a daily basis and Dean had noticed the way the young woman stared a little too long for his liking in the belly area. He was sad for Sue, mainly, because she loved Clover, but Sam had told him that they didn’t need to cut her out completely. She could still babysit Sumiko at her place whenever they needed it.

 _Next week_ , Dean had been saying for the last two weeks. Sam was content to let him make the decision.

When Sam finally arrived home, he was surprised to find Dean waiting for him on the porch stairs. His expression and stance were those of a determined, bad ass hunter, complete with his green vest, his boots, and a duffle on his shoulder, like he was ready to go and take down a werewolf. Of course, the effect was completely ruined by the fact that Sam knew the duffle really was a diaper bag, and that instead of a gun, Dean was holding a smiling little girl with a yellow skirt, a pink shirt and a tiny, clumsily made ponytail on the top of her head.

Sam didn’t even have time to cut the engine before Dean was walking toward him at a quick efficient pace.

“What’s going on?” he asked while Dean got Sumiko settled in her baby seat. She was yelling “daa-daam” and making her hi/bye sign enthusiastically at him.

“Nothing is going on,” Dean groaned, falling into the passenger seat and closing the door with way too much force. “I need to get out of here. Just… drive.”

“Um. Okay. But where-“

“I don’t know!” Dean replied with frustration and Sam wisely kept his mouth shut.

They'd been on the road for five minutes when Dean exploded. “I’m gonna go crazy. Hell, I probably already am!”

“What? Did the baby…?”

“No, the baby didn’t do anything! And I… I’m becoming a freaking housewife! A fat housewife.” Dean added, blushing violently.

“Dean, you’re not-“

“What? Fat? Because man, I can see myself in a mirror, ya’ know. Doesn’t matter what I try. Christ! I’m eating fucking green stuff all day long, but I just…”

“Rania told you if you eat healthy then there's nothing else you can do-“

“Don’t patronize me! Can you look me in the eyes and tell me I’m not getting fat?”

“I’m driving!”

“Lame excuse!”

“Dean. What’s going on?”

“Wha’s going on? I’m trapped at home all day long and the only person I can talk to… well when the baby-sitter isn't there, is a ten month old baby! Don’t get me wrong, she’s my daughter and I love her, but I’m like… Holding whole conversations where the only answer I get is a bubble of saliva and a wet smile! And that’s not the worst of it… I’m becoming fucking good at cleaning the house. I vacuum every two days so Sue won't swallow something left on the floor and I’m a fucking king at separating colors when I do the laundry… and… and… when I fold the clean clothes I sometimes freaking hum to myself!”

Sam didn’t say anything. It was hard enough as it was not to burst out laughing.

“I’m watching daytime TV!” Dean added in a disgusted voice. “And those cooking shows… sometimes I write the recipe down! Today I watched this ad about a product that’s supposed to wash out every stain and there I was, instead of laughing, actually thinking about buying one! Call now and we'll throw in our wonderful special brush at no extra charge!” 

The last words were practically roared. Sue made a small whining noise and Dean looked at her in the rear view mirror, his face softening in record time. “It’s okay, baby, daddy’s not mad,” he said in a carefully controlled voice.

“Dean, you’re just tired of being cooped up at home. I get it.”

“No you don’t, because you go to work everyday. With _people_.” Dean said, his tone a mix of awe and jealousy.

“Okay, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“But surely there's something you-“

“Anything! I just need to see some people, Sam.”

“Uh. Okay.”

Sam tried to think of something. He would probably feel trapped at home with their daughter too sometimes if the tables were reversed. Add to that the fact that, sooner rather than later, Dean would have to declare his condition too pronounced to even go out anymore…

Despite Dean’s visible exasperation, Sam wasn’t worried about this sudden burst of anger. This, this was normal. This was Dean. It seemed to Sam that this was the first time since the beginning of the pregnancy that his brother had behaved like himself. Not a single day passed without Sam questioning himself about the whole hypnosis session and everything Dean had said that he couldn’t make sense of. He knew he hadn't had a choice in trying to break the special connection between Dean and the baby. It had been getting too dangerous. Still, he wondered if there would be consequences to this decision.

One thing was certain, though: even if Dean had his own doubts and insecurities concerning that particular issue, the effects had still been positive. The only thing that was really bothering him was his weight gained and Sam figured there was nothing they could do about that. It was true, Dean was eating healthy –even more so than when he'd been pregnant with Sumiko- and was as active as he could be. To Sam’s eyes, he was gorgeous. His shape had this softer, rounder edge to it, and sometimes, it touched Sam on a very possessive level. _Dean looks round and full with my child_ , he would think, then blush, imagining the punch he would probably receive if he ever dared say that out loud.

“Stop there,” Dean suddenly said, pointing ahead of them and to his left.

It was the baseball field Sam passed by each day on his way to work and there seemed to be a t-ball game going on with a few parents sitting on the old bleachers near the field and kids who couldn’t be more than seven or eight playing.

“You wanna…?”

“Yeah, slow down or you’re gonna miss the entrance.”

Sam stopped the car.

“T-Ball?”

“Yeah. Not too many people but people still, out in the open, and besides, Sumiko better start understanding the rules right now because she’ll start playing in a couple of years.”

Sam stopped the car and took a look at Sumiko who was trying to shove two fingers up the same nostril. “She’s ten months old, Dean.”

“Come on, Sammy.”

“Okay.”

“Kay!” Sumiko declared. _Okay_ was her latest word. She’d spent hours repeating it earlier that week.

“Yeah okay, baby girl.”

Sumiko clapped her hands together and shook her head from left to right, endangering the state of her small, precarious ponytail, which suddenly made Sam think of something.

“Hey Dean?”

“What?”

“You did this ponytail for Sumiko?”

Dean looked at him for a long second as his face turned bright red. “It’s… She’s got this Mohawk thing going on and I thought… Fuck, stop looking at me like that. She’s a girl! We’ll have to do her hair sooner or later.”

“You know, I would have paid a good amount of money to see you doing that.”

“Shut up.”

There was a hot-dog stand nearby and Dean was eying it, looking so miserable it twisted something in Sam’s guts. It was true. Dean was eating so healthily it was almost scary to see him measuring and preparing his portion of steamed vegetables and pulling the skin off his grilled chicken. It was unfair that it disturbed him to put on so much weight while he did everything he could to prevent it.

“I’ll go get us something to eat. Find us a place,” he said, voice firm, already heading to the stand. 

When he got back, Dean was sitting apart from the other parents with Sue standing in the V between his legs, yelling and clapping and pointing at everything she saw. When Dean got a look the two chili dogs Sam handed to him, his eyes opened wide and became as bright as those of a child on Christmas morning. He took the cardboard tray hesitantly, licking his lips without seeming to notice the involuntary gesture.

“Sam I’m not-“

“Hey, Dean, stop it. You’re not a freaking anorexic starlet. I love you, you look gorgeous just the way you are, and you have to right to eat what you like. Now, come on. Brought you a diet coke, though.”

Sam sat with his own chili dogs, not wanting Dean to feel guilty. Sumiko eyed their food with curious eyes, but Dean took some small cheese pieces and a sippy cup of milk out of the bag and that was that. She was way more interested in the t-ball game, bouncing on her feet and turning to Sam and Dean to babble some unintelligible words about what she was seeing.

It was a great idea, after all. Dean looked relaxed and like he was enjoying himself, pointing some of the players to Sam and analyzing their game play, guessing who had some natural talent. Sam himself felt more at peace than he had in the last few months and when Dean grabbed his hand suddenly to put it on his belly, he felt a powerful wave of affection and love threaten to submerge him.

“She moving?”

“Yeah. Wait for it… wait for… There.”

It was still very subtle, but Sam could feel it, the small poking against Dean’s taut skin.

“Hey baby,” he murmured, bending over Dean’s belly.

Sumiko, who was sitting between them, give him her brightest smile. “Daadaam,” she said, doing her hi/bye sign. 

Dean burst out laughing.

“She thinks you’re talking to her. Gosh, this little one is going to be so jealous when her sister is born. Won’t you, monkey?” he added, taking Sumiko into his arms and tickling her waist. Her laugh was goofy and high-pitched and it was like this perfect Hallmark moment until Sumiko paled and threw up her cheese and milk all over Dean’s left shoulder.

“Okay, time to go home, what do you think?” Dean asked Sam, shrugging, because when you've spent most of your life hunting monsters, often ending up covered in blood or ectoplasm or slime, baby vomit wasn’t really all that disturbing.

They had fun that night. Sumiko fell asleep on the way back home, the small pink hair clip barely holding the three hairs that were left in her ponytail. Dean did too, surrounded by the acrid smell of vomit, which, for some reason, was kind of cute. When they arrived home, Dean stirred and stretched as much as he could, sitting in the Impala.

“Home sweet home,” he mumbled, stifling a yawn, all of his irritation and impatience forgotten.

That night, they made love. Sam took Dean from behind as his brother was kneeling on the bed, holding onto the bed posts. He came twice, first when Sam opened him, then again after long, blissful minutes of fucking, as he was groaning for his brother to go harder, deeper and Sam was stripping his cock. Sam’s orgasm was triggered by the delicious clenching of Dean’s inner walls around his dick, the sensation so overwhelming he practically screamed out his love for his brother.

Dean let him get away with it.

::: :::

Two days later, Dean explained to Clover that he wouldn’t need her to come every week anymore. She seemed sincerely sad and was glad they would still call her if they needed a baby-sitter. That same day, Bobby called Sam. He was at work, fixing a bug at the computer science lab during his lunch break.

“Bobby, what’s going on?”

“Nothing important. How are you guys doin’?”

“Good. We’re good.”

“What about the hypnotic suggestion? Is it still holding on?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Sam, you remember asking me about those two hunters… Jason Shatner and Isabelle Marchand?”

“Yeah.”

“You never told me why.”

“Oh. It’s… nothing. Once when we were at Rania’s for Dean to be checked out they came in. The guy had been badly bitten by a black dog and the woman was very worried. Dean had… well, the baby acted out that time, sending random images to Dean that probably didn’t mean anything. Like she was picking up the tension in the room.”

“Hum.”

“Hum what?”

“Well, there's a chance it was an intentional message, not just random images, because something happened to Isabelle recently.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, she and Jason were taking down a poltergeist in Jefferson City. Nasty thing. Had been haunting the house since it was built. Anyway, they were practically done with the ritual when the house burst into flame all by itself. Shatner had time to get out, but Isabelle Marchand stayed trapped inside. She died.”

“God.”

“Supernatural fire. In a matter of minutes, there was nothing left of the house.”

“A poltergeist can do that?”

“Apparently. Anyway, just wanted to keep you informed.”

“Thanks.”

Sam spent the rest of the day thinking about what Dean had said just after their brief meeting with Isabelle and Jason. He had seen an image of the creepy twins from the Shinning and then had heard their father’s voice, what he had said to him that horrible night the demon had killed their mom.

The fire. Maybe that’s what the baby had been seeing in Isabelle and Jason’s future. As for the creepy twins, Sam couldn’t make sense of it, but maybe it had something to do with the poltergeist in the house. 

He decided not to tell Dean any of this. His brother was insecure enough as it was with their decision to severe the connection without adding any more questions concerning the baby’s powers.

::: :::

_Freeport, June 2_

“I don’t like surprises.”

Dean was all but pouting in the car, mumbling his guess about a freaking picnic that was probably the gayest thing ever. Sam just smiled. It was a warm evening, perfect for what he had planned. Dean was now in his 26th week, had put on 32 pounds and showed no sign of slowing down. He had started having the same symptoms that had appeared only toward the end of Sue’s pregnancy: water retention, back pain and shortness of breath. Rania was still worried about the weight gain, but so far Dean’s blood pressure had remained within the normal range, although it now tended toward being a little higher than he was used to. The baby would be a big one. Measurements showed that she was now three weeks ahead of what was considered normal for a 26 week foetus. For all those reasons, Dean had declared that now was the time to remain secluded in their beach house. Sam knew the gig by now, but that didn’t meant he wasn’t allowed to do a little something special for Dean’s last public appearance.

He drove them to Portland without saying a word that would give away the secret and without reacting to his brother’s childish attitude. The Portland Orchestra was giving a series of concerts during the spring and summer that were free and open to public –the events taking place in a park near the Port. The first concert of the summer season was always a special event, Sam had learned from a work colleague who had given him a small brochure about it.

As soon as Sam had read what was going to be played, he had started to make plans. The best thing about the park was that it was gigantic and, on the south end, there were a series of trails and smaller rest areas crisscrossing a hill under the cover of trees. Sam had found the perfect spot for them to be intimate, but not too far from the stage where the orchestra would be playing. The view would be perfect.

When he parked the Impala on the side of the road, Dean raised both eyebrows at him, still looking very annoyed.

“A picnic in the woods. Great…” He mumbled, extricating himself from the car and going to get Sue from the back seat.

“DAD-DEE” She yelled, clapping her hands together as if she knew something special was going to happen.

This time, Dean had made her tiny pigtails and Sam had witnessed the whole thing, how Sue had been trying to escape his grip while his badass of a brother worked as fast as he could, the comb between his teeth, skillfully manipulating tiny rubber band around two even tinier locks of hair.

“Shut up,” Dean had said when he was done. “You think this is the first time I've done this? Who do you figure had to untangle your hair every day because you were afraid of the barber?”

“You’d do me in pigtails?”

“Of course not! You looked girly enough as you were.”

Still, it had been all kinds of cute.

“So?” Dean asked, Sumiko canted on his right hip.

“So, follow me.” Sam smiled wickedly, taking the duffle and the thick wool blanket from the trunk.

They didn’t have to walk long to arrive at the small clearing Sam had spotted before. He put the duffle down and was laying out the blanket when he heard Dean’s exclamation of surprise.

“A freaking classic concert, Sammy?”

The musicians were already starting to warm up on the stage, and there were a lot of people arriving at the park to get the better spots. Sam’s smile widened. “Yeah, why not?”

“This surprise sucks.”

“Come on, let’s eat.”

Dean grumbled because he had to sit on the ground and then about Sumiko who didn't want to stay still and that he was tired and would have trouble digesting. Sam just kept on smiling and helped him down despite all the mumbling, then ran after Sumiko who was walking clumsily on the uneven ground.

They both got quiet once the food was out of the bag. Sumiko stuffed the couscous salad Sam had made for her into her mouth while Dean and Sam ate their sandwiches. More people arrived as the sun started to set, giving an orangey tint to everything. Sumiko looked excited to be outside at this hour. She was sitting next to Dean, resting her head on the top of his belly while he gave her small pieces of bread. “Yeah, that’s right. Grown up food always looks better, right, monkey?”

“Kay!” Sumiko agreed, opening her mouth like a baby bird. 

Two sets of green eyes illuminated by the fading sunlight. Sam took his iPhone from the duffle and took a picture, which annoyed Dean greatly. “Hey, what have I said? We can’t allow ourselves to take pictures of my… condition.”

“Don’t worry. No belly in the picture, I swear.”

“Mmm,” Dean didn’t sound convinced, but he let the matter drop and opened the big fruit salad container. 

When they were finished with the lunch, Sumiko wanted to explore her surroundings and Sam went with her. She held his index finger tightly in her small hand, using the other to point at different things she saw. Dean cleaned the blanket of their meal’s contents and lay on his back, arms crossed behind his head, one of his legs propped up. He knew there wasn’t anybody close and, just like home, he was more relaxed, his outer shirt open and his belly propped up, looking round and full and so, so gorgeous despite his –or because of- his weight gain. 

As the sun went down, it became a little less warm outside, Sam put Sumiko in her black AC/DC hoodie. He had seen it in a store front two weeks ago while out for lunch with some colleagues and couldn’t resist, thinking about the expression on Dean’s face when he showed it to him. It still was a little too large for Sue, so Sam rolled up the sleeves, then tied the hood with the laces around Sumiko’s heart-shaped face. “Wow!” He said, exaggerating his enthusiasm, “Look at you, sweetheart, you’re so pretty!”

She looked down at herself, smiling her four-tooth smile, and clapped her hands together.

“Come show daddy how badass you look,” Dean called, sitting up, and Sumiko all but ran to him, mumbling some nonsense that made Dean burst out laughing.

There was one last mic test and some city official climbed on stage. Sumiko froze when she heard the voice echo and Sam sat next to her, holding her through the official’s speech and keeping an eye on Dean’s face to see how it changed when the man explained what the concert would feature.

The speech ended with the words: “So tonight is our opening night, and we always have a little something special planned. This year, we’re going classic, with the best rock songs of the sixties and seventies!”

Dean repressed his surprised expression as quickly as he could and shook his head. As the first notes of Children of Revolution started, he didn’t try to hide his smile anymore and turned toward Sam, rolling his eyes. “Look at you, all proud of yourself. Okay, Sam, you’re awesome, is that what you’re waiting to hear?”

“Damn right,” Sam said in the cockiest tone he could manage. And hell yeah, he was proud of himself, just as if he’d asked the Portland Orchestra to play Dean’s favorite music as a personal favor.

After a couple of minutes of not being entirely sure she enjoyed all the noise, Sumiko started smiling, mostly because Sam entertained her by singing the lyrics over the instrumentals while making goofy faces. She accepted being put in her stroller with the help of a sipping cup full of juice and, by the fourth song, she was already beginning to look sleepy despite the loud music.

Sam and Dean sat next to her on the blanket and Dean let himself lean against Sam’s chest, letting him bear the weight of his upper body and his round stomach. Sam didn’t say anything because displays of affection outside the bedroom were still rare between them and each time, he was afraid of breaking the magic. After a while, he slid one of his arms over his brother, holding him around the chest, feeling Dean’s body move with each inhale and exhale as well as the vibration from his throat as he hummed along with the songs.

It was close to ten o’clock in the evening when they announced the last song. Sumiko was sleeping soundly, her hoodie-covered head resting on her shoulder. Dean’s weight was heavy and hot and felt nice against Sam’s chest. The Rolling Stone’s Angie started with the chords and Dean immediately started following the beat with his fingers on his thigh. 

“’Ve always loved this song,” he murmured. 

He sang the first verse almost inaudibly in a hoarse voice that was miles away from the one he used in the car just to annoy Sam. 

This, this voice was wonderful, broken and raw, and it raised an old memory in Sam’s mind.

“Dad used to sing this, right?”

“Yeah. He sometimes sang it when he was in the mood, which wasn't all that often.”

“Was he any good?”

Dean snorted. “I don’t know, man. Was so impressed to hear my dad sing I didn't care if he was good or not.

“Angie.”

“Angie. I like the name too. It’s a strong name, the name of someone who knows what she wants.”

“Angie…” Sam repeated again. He wasn’t listening to the song anymore. Something in Dean’s tone had grabbed his attention. He pushed himself up and angled his head to look at Dean’s face. “You really like the name?”

“Well… Yeah.”

“Like… enough to name our second daughter after it?”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe? I mean… I doubt we’ll find another magical name – we don’t even know if it works anyway. With everything that has happened to her, and she’s not even born yet, I guess a normal name would be nice.”

Sam really liked the name, especially the way it sounded when Dean sang it. “But Angie is a nickname. Would she be an Angela, Angelina or Angelica?”

“You serious?” Dean moved so that he could see Sam better. “About the name? Angie?”

“Why not? I like it.”

“Well…"

“Oh, Dean, I just remembered something.”

It was perfect. Sam kissed Dean’s cheek, feeling close to euphoria. “There's this old goddess… Well, it’s not really a goddess. It’s an old personified concept, comes from the Greeks-”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The name Angelia. It means messenger.”

“Oh.”

Dean seemed speechless for a little while. “It’s nice.” he whispered.

“Yeah, right?”

“How the hell do you know these things?”

“I’m a geek.”

“That, you are.”

“So? What do you say? Angelia Winchester. Angie.”

Dean raised a surprised eyebrow. “Just like that?”

“Why not?”

Dean smiled. “There goes normal. Our daughter, the messenger.”

“We don’t have to if-“

“No. No, I like it. And she likes the song.”

“What?”

“Don’t panic. No special connection here. Just, she's been moving since they started playing it.”

“Well, that’s settled then.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Dean lay on his back, eyes raised to the stars. “You really think we can pull it off?” He asked as the last notes of the songs drifted into the night.

Sam lay on his side, resting his head in his hand. “Dean…”

“I mean, this… pregnancy started all wrong and dramatic and… Now, it seems so normal – hey, normal, word of the day. Anyway, you know what I mean, right? Don't you get the feeling that it's all gonna come back to bite us in the ass?”

Yeah, sometimes Sam thought the exact same thing. Severing the connection had been good for all of them, the baby included, but with their luck, he sometimes felt they got away too easy. Then again, they were so used to the damn Winchester “luck” that maybe it was just a matter of perception. Most of all, Sam wanted to believe everything would be fine.

“Everything will be fine,” is what he said, putting as much conviction as he could into those words.

Then, he bent down toward Dean’s stomach and added, “Right, Angie?” before kissing the jutted navel of Dean’s belly.

“Stop it, you dork,” Dean murmured, pushing Sam away from him.

But he was still smiling. Sam kissed him again, on the mouth this time. As Dean responded eagerly to it, shoving his tongue in Sam’s mouth, Sam thought he heard something in the woods nearby, a very discreet snap, as though a branch had been stomped on. Then, the crowd exploded in an ovation, eagerly applauding the orchestra’s conductor over the praise of the city official and Sam forgot about something as insignificant as a branch snapping in the woods.

::: :::

_Freeport, June 11_

The day had been as hot as a real summer day. The kids at school were loud and agitated, the promise of two months of vacation seeming closer than ever now that the temperature was getting warmer. It was a Friday and Sam couldn’t wait to get home and take a shower. The cooling system at the school wasn’t very efficient and Sam felt his shirt sticking to his body, wet with sweat. When he got into the Impala, the _black, leather seat covered damn Impala_ , it felt like he was burning alive. He opened the four windows and drove fast, but even so by the time he got back home, his hair was dripping sweat onto his face.

Their house by the beach was beautiful in this late spring. The garden needed some work and the trees some trimming. Maybe they could give the porch a coat of paint too. All those projects were on Sam's summer agenda. Ten more days and he would be on vacation. It would be a relief to spend some real time with Dean and Sumiko. He would be able to help Dean with his home job, allow him to rest. Since Clover wasn’t coming home to babysit anymore, Dean had to take care of the house and Sumiko all by himself and his pregnancy was starting to seriously take a toll on him. The worst of it would definitely be getting through July and August and Sam would be there every step of the way.

Sam didn’t go into the house right away. He walked around the garden and looked down at the beach. Dean liked to take Sumiko there after her afternoon nap, when the weather permitted it, and sure enough, they were there. Sam took off his shirt and left it on the fence, then went down the soft soil path that led to the beach.

Dean had found an old beach umbrella in the garden shed and was using it to protect Sumiko, as well as himself, from the sun. They were both sitting on a long towel, Sumiko wearing a small green jumpsuit and a large white hat, sunglasses perched unevenly on her nose. She was taking sand in both hands and trying to fill a plastic bucket with Dean's help. A white tee was stretched over his stomach, his maternity jeans rolled up to his knees. He was barefoot and his ankles were slightly swollen. His hair was a wet mess, his face red from the heat. He smiled and Sam felt his heart clench a little at the sight of Dean’s visible tiredness.

“Hey,” He said, crouching near the both of them.

“Dadam!” Sumiko sang, letting go of the sand she was holding to crawl toward him.

“Give me a kiss,” Sam asked, taking her on his lap.

She did, mouth open and wet, pressing it lightly against Sam’s cheek. He felt something prickling his skin and when he looked at Sumiko, he saw brown grains around her mouth.

“Dean? Did you let her eat sand?”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

“It’s not good for her.”

“Come on! I didn’t do it on purpose. Beside, you used to eat sand all the time when you were young and Dad said it cleaned your digestive system.” Dean added.

“You’re shitting me.”

“Well, you stayed stuck in your oral phase a freakishly long time. One morning, you were four I think, Dad woke up and you were sucking a silver bullet like it was candy.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Hey, got something to show you.”

Dean grabbed Sumiko and took her sunglasses away. She blinked at Sam and smiled.

“What?”

“On her cheeks and nose. Look closely.”

Sam squinted his eyes and observed his daughter’s face, guessing immediately what Dean was referring to. Sumiko’s first freckles had started to appear. She had three on the bridge of her nose and two on her left cheek.

“Oh, would you look at that,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, sounding disgusted. “I mean, I cover her with like… 8000 fps sunscreen every hour and still.”

“They're c-“

“I swear to god, if you say cute I’m gonna punch you.”

“Well she’s got your skin.”

“Yeah, poor baby,” Dean winced then, tried to shift from one hip to the other, and paled all of a sudden.

“Dean?”

“Sam, hold her,” he snarled between clenched teeth. 

Sue let out a small whimpering noise, but didn’t resist. Instead, she buried her face in the crook of Sam’s neck while Dean wrapped his arms around himself and groaned loudly.

“Aw, fuck, here we go again,” he murmured.

“The pain?”

“Yeah… Holy shit, Sam.”

“You sure it’s the same thing as-“

“YES! For Christ’s sake, stop talking to me.”

“Well… um… okay. Stay here, lie down, I’ll take Sue into the house and come back for you.”

Sumiko gripped Sam’s neck, whimpering daa-daa-dee almost constantly while Dean twisted and lay on his side. The sun was still hot in the sky, there was a small breeze coming from the ocean, but not enough to cool Sam down. He stood up and ran to the house to put Sumiko in her play pen, then walked back to the beach to find Dean throwing up in the plastic bucket, which, for some reason, was one of the most pathetic things he’d ever seen.

He kneeled under the umbrella and held Dean as best he could.

“Don’t say anything,” Dean panted. 

“I won’t.”

“I know what I must look like.”

“I don’t care.”

Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tried to get his knees under him, but another wave of pain struck him and he had to grip both of Sam’s arms not to fall on his stomach. “Shit, it hurts.”

“Come on. We’ll walk slowly. Sue’s in her pen.”

Dean braced himself and Sam could finally help him up, although he couldn’t unfold his body completely. They made their way very slowly to the house, Sam practically bearing all of his brother’s weight.

“Just thinking about what's causing this makes me wanna puke again,” Dean grumbled between pants.

“What? Your birth canal?”

“You had to go ahead and say it, didn't you? Shit, Sam, m’gonna fall. I can’t go on, it…”

“Just a little more, or do you want me to carry you bridal style?”

Dean snorted, then stumbled into Sam’s arms. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”

As they were walking around the garden to the front door, Sam caught a glimpse of something red move into the woods. It was gone in a blink and he didn’t give it a second thought, concentrated on getting Dean safely inside and relieving his pain.


	10. Chapter 10

_Freeport, June 15_

The storm had been hovering low in the sky since the beginning of the afternoon, but it showed no sign of breaking open any time soon despite the weak rumble of thunder that could be heard from far away. The wind had yet to rise and the air was damp and heavy with humidity.

Sam had never liked electrical storms – he wasn’t scared of them, he just didn’t like them - and he was eager to finish his work day and pick Sumiko up at Clover’s. Dean had spent the weekend in bed and even though he’d started feeling better on Monday, Sam had taken the day off. He couldn’t be absent on Tuesday as well but, luckily, Clover had been free to babysit Sue for the day – and happy to do it. Dean hadn’t protested because even if he was now okay with morphine pills and all that was left was a sensation of soreness, he knew too well that he didn't have enough energy to care for a rambunctious Sumiko.

They had talked around lunchtime and Dean had slept most of the morning, but planned to start working on Angie’s crib in the afternoon. He had made Sam buy some wood during the weekend: African rosewood. He wanted Angie’s crib to have its own personality and judging by the dark colored planks, it would definitely be different from Sumiko’s.

Sam parked the Impala on the side of the street near _The Alchemist._ Clover was outside with Sumiko and a blond headed kid who must have been her brother. Seeing Sam, the baby-sitter turned the stroller and went to meet him. Sumiko didn’t smiled when she saw him, just stretched her arms up toward him and started to cry.

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, concerned as he took his daughter in his arms.

“She was fine this morning, but she started to get grumpy after lunch. She just seems in a bad mood.”

“Well, she doesn’t get baby-sat for a whole day very often,” Sam brushed it off, seeing how Clover seemed worried that maybe she hadn’t done her job correctly. “She misses Dean, that’s all.”

“Daa-ddeee,” Sumiko whined, shoving her head into the crook of Sam’s neck.

“Yeah, we’re going to see Daddy right now, sweetheart."

The ride back home was strange. The clouds were so dark and dense it seemed like night was falling early and, although Sumiko had stop crying, she kept looking out the window and repeating Dean’s name again and again, mumbling it around the thumb that was shoved in her mouth. Sam felt a sense of dread he couldn’t quite explain and drove faster. 

The rain still hadn’t started when he parked the Impala in the driveway, but a violent wind had begun, shaking the trees around the beach house as the noise of the leaves lifted by the breeze grew louder.

“Daaddee-Dee,” Sumiko whispered and start crying again.

“Hey, come on, we’re going to see daddy right now, baby. No need to be so sad.”

Sam cradled Sumiko in his arms, kissing the top of her head, then turned toward the house.

And stopped breathing.

The front door was wide open.

Sam tried to stay calm. Maybe Dean was in the shed and had forgotten to close the door properly. Of course, forgetting to close the door wasn’t something the Winchesters ever allowed themselves to do, but maybe the morphine had made him a little less careful than usual.

“Dean?” Sam called, walking toward the house.

He stopped in front of the three steps leading to the porch.

The ground there had been trampled.

There were a few drops of what looked like drying blood on the steps.

“Dean!” Sam called louder.

He turned toward the shed. The shed door was open as well. There was no way Dean would ignore him if he was in there.

Still, Sam walked quickly toward the shed. He didn’t have to enter the garden to see that it was empty.

Sue cried louder in his arms. Thunder rumbled in the sky. 

_Okay_ , Sam though, walking back toward the house. _Okay Dean was working in the shed and he cut himself. He went back into the house to get the first aid kit and…_

Yeah, that would explain the blood, but not the stomping footsteps at the bottom of the stairs.

Sam entered the house, yelling Dean’s name. There was an easy trail to follow and the horror that was freezing his heart made it impossible for him to feel anything. His mind processed the scene in front of him and provided him the facts in a very clinical way, as though they had nothing to do with him.

Bloody fingerprints on the wall leading to the kitchen. A mirror hanging the wrong way, a chest of drawers knocked down.

Sue crying so loud in his arms, her little fingernails digging into Sam’s skin. 

The kitchen. More blood. Two of the chairs knocked over. A carton of milk spilled on the floor, mixing with the blood. Some sticky foot prints.

All those clues filled Sam's vision, telling him a story. He tried to take a breath but couldn’t and a strong dizzy spell made him sway on his feet.

Dean.

No.

Someone had taken Dean. Dean, six months pregnant and defenseless, vulnerable. 

“Dean!” He yelled, letting out all of his fear and anger.

A lightning strike illuminated the house.

 _The storm is coming_ , Sam thought.

Then, reality came back to him, like a distorted echo. Sumiko’s cries of terror. The heat of her small, shaking body against his own. 

For the first time since he could remember, Sam understood a fraction of what his father had been through. Even if all he wanted was to burst outside and look for Dean, he had a daughter to care for in priority.

He took a deep breath and started rubbing Sumiko’s back. “It’s okay,” he said, feeling numb and cold. “It’s okay, baby, daddy’s here. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, I swear.”

Sumiko hiccupped another sob and let out a long sigh. “Daa-dee-dee,” she said in a murmur.

::: :::

_Two hours earlier_

Dean had been working on the crib for barely an hour when he had to sit on the small bench he had found in the shed. Damn it. His hips were still sore as hell and he felt swollen and itchy between his legs. The opening had probably started to appear, but damn it if he would take a look to verify. This was something he hadn't ever gotten comfortable with during Sumiko’s pregnancy. It filled him with a sense of shame he couldn’t even explain and the less he thought about it the better.

After almost three days of lying down, he had needed to move despite the soreness. His belly was a heavy weight when he lay down, putting pressure on his back.

He felt clumsy and ready to get out of his skin. Which wasn’t new. This pregnancy was harder, physically, than the first one. Dean avoided looking at himself in a mirror anymore what with how chubby his face looked. And he was so damn hungry all the time. He had never felt this hungry before, despite the fact that he ate three meals a day. He had begun to measure and calculate everything, because if he relied on his sense of hunger, he would be eating constantly.

Dean sighed just as the baby moved, a small fluttering on his left side. When he was alone, he allowed himself to touch his belly sometimes. Now, he pressed his hand slightly against the side of his stomach. “Need some exercise too, I bet,” he murmured, looking down at himself. 

Angie. 

He liked the name. It seemed to him that, if the connection that had existed between the baby and him had still been there, she would have agreed.

“Time for some milk,” he added, patting his belly.

He held onto the working table and groaned as he stood up. He would have to take a morphine pill soon. He didn’t like the idea, but he was resigned to it. Rania had insisted even more when she had visited him at their home on Friday night. His blood pressure had been a little high, and the pain could make it worse, so it was important that the pain remained under control.

He walked slowly to the house, grunting and cursing, thinking about how physically fit people took for granted how easy it was to walk and go about their daily activities. Thinking about how long ago they seemed, the times when he used to run through the woods to catch up with some monster, barely breaking a sweat. He had gotten back in shape after Sumiko’s delivery, but he knew he wasn’t the fit hunter he used to be. Sam wasn’t either - they had lived a secluded, sedentary life for almost two years now - but Dean knew deep down that the curse had changed him in a way that he could never reverse.

Most of the time, he was okay with it. One look at his daughter had the power to sooth most of his insecurities.

Dean walked into the kitchen, smiling to himself as he thought about the way Sue had made a mess of her banana that morning until it had been reduced to a less than appetizing puree before taking some in her hand and offering it to Sam as if it was a treasure. Sam’s false smile and his exaggerated “mmm” while he fake-tasted the offering had been priceless.

Dean took the milk carton from the fridge and made a mental note to call Sam and tell him to buy some more before coming back home. They had switched Sumiko from formula to regular milk very recently and the amount of it they needed to buy was a little bit shocking.

The small bottle of morphine pills was on the counter. Dean let one fall into his hand and downed it with a mouthful of milk straight from the carton, not bothering with a glass.

That’s when he heard it. In the hallway that joined the front door entrance and the kitchen there was a panel of wood which creaked every time they stepped on it – even Sue was heavy enough to make it groan.

Dean froze. 

Someone was in the house. Someone had opened the front door without him noticing it.

Someone was behind him.

A human. Must be, with all the sigils and protections in and around the house.

He had a few seconds to react. He cleared his throat and put the milk carton on the counter, grabbing the small kitchen knife from its rack against the wall.

His heart was beating hard in his chest. He listened, drawing the knife toward him.

A very discreet footstep, then another. Dean could estimate by the strength of the noise that the person was less than two meters behind him.

He knew he only had one chance. With the weight of the baby and the difficulty he had moving, he couldn’t turn around and attack. Besides, that would expose his stomach – his unborn baby - to the intruder.

The only way to get the upper hand was to let him get close enough and then use the knife, protecting his belly by making a backward stabbing movement. He knew he could do it, if only he was given the chance.

Dean wasn’t scared. Not yet. He couldn’t afford to be scared.

His hand clenched hard on the handle of his knife.

The footsteps stopped.

Dean felt a trickle of sweat slide down his forehead to the tip of his nose.

It was taking too long. The intruder would know Dean had heard him if he kept standing awkwardly in the corner of the kitchen.

What happened next was so unexpected that at first he didn’t understand what was happening.

There was a sharp, popping noise and, almost immediately, he felt a pinch of pain on the left side of his back.

He didn’t remember falling, only finding himself lying on his side, shaken by violent tremors. It didn’t last long, but left him weak and confused, trying to understand, trying to…

An old memory came to him. Something he tried never to think about.

_The Rawhead in the basement. The water and then the electric shock that had risen from his feet where he had been standing in stagnant water._

The noise he’d heard. It must have been a taser. 

_The baby_ , he thought, moaning in pain. 

Somehow, during his fall, he had taken the milk carton with him and it was resting on its side, spilling onto the floor inches away from his face.

His right hand, the one that had held the knife, was literally pulsing with sharp waves of pain. He moved his eyes slowly – even that hurt - to look at it. His fingers had closed on the small but sharp blade of the knife and his hand seemed stuck in this contracted position.

He moaned again, concentrating on the movement, and succeeded in slowly relaxing his fingers.

The smell of his blood. This, this was something he was familiar with.

“Baby,” he mumbled to himself. 

Was Angie okay? God, was Angie…

There was a sudden darkness hovering just over him, soft hair brushing against his face. Good. Sam. Sam was here. Sam would…

_Was the Rawhead toasted?_

“We gotta move,” Sam said, except that it wasn’t Sam. It was a woman’s voice.

His consciousness seemed to ebb and flow in waves. With the realization that he was at his attacker's mercy, fear bloomed in Dean’s chest like a bloody flower.

::: :::

_Freeport, June 15, 3h00 AM_

When the car slowly rolled into the alley, Sam thought about standing up from the porch stairs. He wasn’t sure he could trust his legs. Instead, he grabbed his gun more firmly in his hands and waited.

It wasn’t one of Bobby’s usual old cars, but a Japanese compact. 

Bobby got out and took a bag from the back seat. When he was close enough, Sam took the flask from beside him and threw it in his direction. One could never be too cautious, right?

Bobby grabbed the flask before it could hit him in the chest. “Holy Water?” he asked.

“And salt.”

Bobby drank and threw the flask back.

“What do you say you put down your gun, Sam?”

“How did you get here so fast?”

“There are these things called planes. Ellen was wrapping up a hunt in Ohio. She’ll be here as soon as she can.”

Sam nodded slowly. It was still raining, light, small drops. He was wet with it. Strange how he hadn't noticed before now.

He put the gun next to him and rubbed his face.

“Where’s the kid?”

“She’s at Rania’s.”

“Sure she’s clean?”

“Rania? You really think I would’ve left Sumiko with her if I had any doubts?"

Bobby took a look around, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Found anything?”

“It wasn’t a supernatural creature. Couldn't have passed the sigils and protections around and in the house. Whoever did this was alone. It happened between one and three in the afternoon. Dean was working in the shed. He must’ve come inside to take a pill. The person attacked him from behind. He’s hurt, or his assailant is hurt. There was blood, but not too much. It happened in the kitchen. Dean must have been knocked out in some way and been dragged out by the intruder. Then, I don’t know what happened because it started to rain and everything that could’ve lead to a clue about where they went got washed away. I think the intruder must’ve parked his car away from the house because Dean would’ve heard it. I can’t figure out how he managed to get Dean all the way from the house to his car.”

Sam knew he was babbling. It felt good to talk. Less thinking. He would have gone on, but Bobby stopped him.

“We should get inside.”

“Yeah.”

Sam made no attempt to move. Inside were the bloody hand prints on the wall and the mess in the kitchen. He hadn’t been able to clean it up.

“I have to find him, Bobby.”

“We will.”

“He couldn’t fight back, not in his condition. He was vulnerable and I left him alone.”

“It’s not your fault, Sam.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sam replied calmly. “The baby, she knew, and I didn’t listen to her. I fucking shut her up.”

Bobby crouched in front of Sam, looking him straight in the eyes. “Son, blaming yourself isn’t gonna solve anything. Now, come inside with me. I’ll make you something to eat, then we’ll talk.”

“No time to talk,” Sam murmured. “Bobby I can’t… I…”

He was going to lose it. He was so close already, his mind a pit of overflowing dark emotions and swirling fear.

“We’re going to get him back,” Bobby repeated slowly, pressing Sam’s shoulder with his calloused hand.

“Promise me.”

And was that a stupid thing to say? It had been years since Sam had used those two words. He'd been trapped in a motel room as his big brother reassured him about their father. _Dad will come back. Don’t you worry, Sammy, he’ll be back soon._

_Promise me, Dean._

And Dean had promised without even blinking.

Bobby stayed silent and patted Sam’s shoulder. 

Sam blinked away the tears that were prickling his eyes.

::: :::

5h00 AM

Dean woke up, feeling nauseous and sore all over. He was lying on his back, probably on a bed, but he didn’t trust himself enough to open his eyes yet.

“Come on, I know you’re awake.”

Shit. The last thing he remembered was being dragged outside and then something pricking his arm. 

They'd walked and then he was propped up in the back seat of a car, a blanket pulled over him.

Yeah, and then nothing.

Dean moved his arms very slowly, then his legs. He wasn’t tied up. 

He remembered being electrocuted with the taser.

“What have you done to me?” He tried to ask, but instead, what came out of his mouth was something that sounded like: “wffdontomeh”.

He had been drugged. He had received an electric shock. He tried to raise his hands to his belly but it was like they were filled with steel.

“The baby’s fine. I wouldn’t have hurt her.”

The voice with the accent. French accent, subtle but there. Dean opened his eyes. Everything seemed out of focus and too bright.

“You’re that hunter,” he mumbled, trying to articulate as well as he could.

“Isabelle, yes. We met at Rania Suleiman’s house.”

Dean slowly turned his head. He couldn’t make out where he was, could barely focus on what was a few feet away from him much less on Isabelle face.

“What do you want?”

“The baby. It’s not for me, though.” 

Something in Dean’s mind broke, hearing those words. He wanted to yell and kick and tell her that he’d never allowed it, but he was still too out of it.

“Let me go.”

“I’m sorry but no, I can’t. We really need the little vessel,” Isabelle explained very calmly.

Dean felt fear and anger bubbling inside of him. He still couldn’t let it out. His body wasn’t his anymore, not really.

If only he could feel Angie moving. Could know that she was fine.

What could a taser shock do to a foetus? It didn’t make any sense. If this crazy bitch wanted the baby, she wouldn’t have hurt her.

Then again, she’d kidnapped Dean and drugged him.

“My brother is going to find me,” he murmured.

“No. He won’t. We’re well prepared.”

“If anything happens to my little girl I’ll kill you, do you understand?” He growled, trying to lift his head.

Wrong move. His stomach lurched, sudden and violent, and the next thing he knew, the woman was turning him on his side and holding a trashcan near his mouth.

It hurt, so bad, and it went on, and on, like it would never end, burning his throat and mouth. Isabelle was rubbing his back and murmuring soothing words and it disgusted him, not being able to fight, having to let her take care of him this way.

“You’ll be okay,” she said. “You have to be, for the baby.”

Dean tried to get his breathing under control, but panic was rising quickly from the depths of his belly and he could tell he was going to pass out.

Just before the world around him started to dissolve, he felt something. A light kick, just under his navel.

 _Angie_ , he thought.

::: :::

Dean’s first day of captivity was dominated by mental confusion. Whatever drug Isabelle had dosed him with kept him from being able to stand for most of the day and at one point he even wet himself without even noticing it. He started to feel better early in the evening, enough to pace around slowly, take in his surroundings and wonder if there was any way he could escape. Because at this point, early on in this crazy situation he’d found himself in, he was convinced he could escape somehow. Isabelle seemed strong and well trained, but she was alone, she was petite, almost delicate.

Dean spent all that evening thinking about possible escape plans. It never crossed his mind that he might not be able to come up with a viable one.

He still had his watch on. At ten o’clock that night, Isabelle came back with a glass of milk and a box of vitamins for him. Before she entered, though, she looked at him through the small window cut in the door and told him to kneel in the corner of the room with his back to her. Dean had to admit to himself that it was a wise precaution, since he wouldn’t be quick enough to try anything from that position. 

He didn’t obey immediately, but as soon as he saw the gun, he changed his mind.

“You can stand up,” the woman said a few seconds later.

The tray with the milk and pill box were on the table. Isabelle stood near the open door.

“Here’s how things are going to go,” she said.

“Fuck you,” Dean snarled, standing up slowly.

She went on as if he hadn’t said anything. “You’re going to listen to everything I say. You’re going to eat well, exercise every day, wash daily, and take care of yourself. If you behave, I will bring you books so you can pass the time easier, or even a TV.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. We need the baby, that’s all. I don’t want to hurt you. You have to remain healthy for the baby’s sake. But Charlotte… Charlotte gets angry sometimes and I’d try to avoid that if I were you.”

“You fucking bitch, you’re alone! I haven't seen anyone else here. If you have a friend helping you why doesn't she show herself?”

“She’s my sister. And she’s here, with us. By the way, she doesn’t like your attitude.”

She was even crazier than Dean had thought. Schizo, maybe. Dean felt braver than he had since he'd been taken and took a step forward, protecting his belly with both arms. He could tell when someone was mentally prepared to fire a gun, and Isabelle wasn’t. “Whatever you want, you won’t get it. I have a brother too, ya’ know, a real one, out there, and he’s going to find me. That is, if I don’t take you down and escape first,” he said in a low menacing voice, looking Isabelle directly in the eyes.

“You don’t have a say in this," Isabelle replied. "You won’t try anything that could hurt the baby.”

“You used a taser on me, you sick fuck! Do you think it’s really recommended for a-“

Dean couldn’t finish his sentence. Something in the air of the room changed, raising the fine hairs on his arms. There was something invisible around Isabelle Marchand, snapping and popping like dry twigs being crunched underfoot. For a second, the young woman’s eyes turned from blue to a supernatural shade of purple and something foreign and alien advanced on Dean. Whatever it was manifest as small, purple sparks which floated closer to him as the snapping noise became louder.

Dean had been touched by a ghost before. He hated the cold paralyzing sensation it gave him, but this was different.

He bent over himself, protecting the baby as best he could, but it didn’t change anything. It was like a hundred hands were covering him, touching him, prodding, and he was pushed back against the bed where he fell. The hands weren’t cold or hot. It felt like they were made of thousands of needles, and as they pressed him back to get him immobilized, he started moaning and groaning, unable to contain his distress through his clenched teeth.

“Get her away from me!” he screamed when those hands started caressing him, and then it was like a blanket of pain was covering his belly. The idea that this thing could get close to Angie was unbearable. “Please, leave the baby alone.”

“She wants to feel her,” Isabelle said in a strange, detached voice. “If you’d stop resisting it would be easier.”

The stinging sensation passed through his skin and he felt it, deep inside of him, the thing that had once been Charlotte Marchand. The baby moved and kicked and, for a second, Dean was sure he could hear her terrified scream in his head.

“Please stop, please stop, I’ll do anything just leave her alone,” he pleaded, not caring about pride or dignity or his own pain.

“I think that's enough, Charlotte,” Isabelle said, and when she obeyed and abruptly exited Dean’s body, he passed out.

He woke up in a sweat, terrorized and lost, and it took him several minutes to get his sudden panic attack under control. When he could think clearly again, he realized how bad the situation was.

There was nothing he could do.

Not in his condition, not with some spirit that was powerful enough to do what it had just done to him and to the baby. It was too dangerous, risking something that could jeopardize the baby’s health. Dean knew the sisters needed Angie and that they would avoid hurting her, but a supernatural spirit – or whatever that thing was - wasn’t as reasonable or as logical as a living human could be and Dean had no knowledge of the spirit’s state of mind.

If he tried to fight in his condition he would be a lame adversary. One punch to the stomach…

One gunshot. 

If Isabelle and Charlotte wanted his baby and succeeded, Dean wouldn’t live to see it. He didn’t know what was going on, wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but still.

His only chance was Sam. Sam would find him, Sam would come barging in gun blazing with Bobby on his tail.

Dean put all of his energy into believing that.

He’d have to behave. He didn’t want to risk another encounter with Charlotte. 

He’d obey and wait for Sam.

He fell asleep trying to hold back tears of frustration, ashamed of it, just wanted to let it out of him because maybe, maybe it would relief him somehow.

 _I’m sorry_ , he told Angelia. _I’m sorry I didn’t understand what you tried so hard to tell me._

::: :::

Isabelle Marchand had a plan. It was crazy, but still. It might work and that's what Dean was afraid of. 

It took him several days to understand everything. It wasn’t like in the movies, where the baddie would blurt out everything in one long monologue. Isabelle would only talk when she was in the mood for it.

He was kept in a room in the basement of some house. The windows had been blocked and the only light was a flickering bulb hanging from the low ceiling.

He had a bed and a table. There was a small washroom to which the door had been removed. The toilet and shower were functional. Isabelle wanted him to take care of himself.

For the baby's sake, not for his own.

Whenever Isabelle came in, it would be the same as the first time. She’d tell him to kneel in the corner, facing the wall. They both knew he couldn't try anything that way. The truth was, he was too afraid of what Charlotte might do to try. 

Isabelle would bring him food, clothes, clean towels. She always had her gun with her, but she didn’t really need it.

When she spoke to him, he didn’t answer unless it was a direct question. The only way to resist, to fight her, was passive resistance. She didn’t seem to mind.

Dean was a vessel, she'd told him on the second day. Sam was as well, and Sumiko. It was a trait they'd inherited, apparently.

The baby was a vessel too. 

That’s why they needed her. Dean and Sam were too damaged, it seemed. Sumiko would’ve been perfect, but it turned out that her name was powerful and protected her against any “intrusion” just as he and Sam had hoped it would.

It made Dean shiver to think about his little girl being taken away from him.

 _Sumiko is safe. Sumiko is with Sam_ , he kept repeating to himself. 

Sadly, Isabelle explained, an unborn child couldn’t be used. They’d have to wait for her to be born. But then she would be perfect.

Isabelle told him about her father, who'd run away from his home country, pursued by his own kind, other hunters who'd believed he was using blood magic and sorcery

It was true, she admitted, but he'd been doing it for the greater good, according to her. The man had taught his daughters the complex art of witchcraft, always warning them not to use it for themselves, only to help during hunts when it would save the lives of innocents.

Yeah, like that ever ended well, Dean thought.

Charlotte was the most gifted, absorbing everything their father taught them.

“She was a geek, my big sister. Well… she is. Still. She was passionate about Roman and Greek mythology, used to refer to herself as Dianna, goddess of the hunt and the moon. Sometimes Artemis, but she preferred Dianna. When we were little, she would tell me stories about Pandora’s box, Hercules, the Titans. She believed in destiny, that we were meant to hunt and do great things for the world.”

Charlotte, as awesome as she must have been, had been killed by a demon two years back and, although Isabelle had been vague on the matter, Dean got the picture that Isabelle had been too late to save her. Isabelle had used her knowledge of witchcraft to tie Charlotte’s soul to her own until she could find a receptacle for her sister to use. Charlotte had tried the same thing after their father’s death, but had failed.

Obviously, Charlotte was the stronger willed one between them. Isabelle sometimes had to fight to keep control and, as the days went by, those power struggles seemed to happen more and more often. Charlotte’s spirit, or soul, or whatever part of her that was still alive, had started to become impatient. Isabelle was desperate to find a proper vessel for her sister. She would get this creepy smile and shake her head: _sometimes it gets heavy in there_ , she would say, pressing her palms against her forehead.

Isabelle hadn’t been able to sense anything special about Dean, Sam and Sumiko the day of their brief meeting, but Charlotte could – of course she could. She’d been trapped outside of Rania’s house because of all the protective wards – just like she couldn’t be “there” when Isabelle had abducted Dean - but she had sensed them when they got outside.

“We were so lucky,” Isabelle said. “Being at Rania's place at the same exact moment was a marvelous coincidence.

In the end, Dean knew how bad his situation really was. When the baby would be born, there would be more witchcraft and blood magic and Charlotte would be able to permanently possess the baby’s body.

Dean's fate was never mentioned, but it didn't take a brainiac to figure out that, if she succeeded with her plan, Isabelle would never let him live. Whatever her plans to take the baby out of him entailed he knew she would make sure he didn’t get out of it alive.

Isabelle never stayed in the room with him for long. All those things about her and Charlotte, he learned them in tiny increments day after day. She was more in the mood to talk in the evening, when Dean was curled on his side on the bed trying his best to ignore her. She would stand in the doorway and speak in a low, calm voice.

He hated her. Hated what she wanted to do to Angie. Hated the thin guise of sanity she wore as he watched it slowly, but surely get striped away. He wasn’t scared of her, though. 

Charlotte, on the other hand…

::: :::

One week. Seven days, if Dean didn’t count the first one where he’d been taken from home like an amateur.

By now, he knew everything there was to know about Isabelle and Charlotte’s story and he just wanted Isabelle to shut up and leave him alone.

He didn’t asked for books or a TV when she said he was allowed to, wouldn’t give her the pleasure of hearing him beg.

He slept a lot, like somehow his system understood the change in his usual habits and wanted to help him cope. He showered in the morning and before going to bed. He ate the balanced but dull food Isabelle served him three times a day.

Getting any kind of exercise was trickier. He couldn’t do sit ups or push-ups, not with his large belly in the way, and he knew he needed to move a little.

Walking around the room drove him mad, triggered a feeling of claustrophobia he wanted to avoid at any cost. He settled for doing a series of stretching exercises three times a day as well as some exercises he’d seen on TV made especially for pregnant women. He had watched that program with embarrassment, even though he'd been alone with Sue, telling himself that he was a big pregnant wuss, never knowing he would actually find some use in them. But here he was, doing the bicycle with his legs, lying on his back in a fucking room where he was trapped, biting his lips to keep from bursting out in tears born of desperation.

 _Sam will come_ became his mantra. 

The only things that made him feel any better were Angie’s soft movements and kicks. _I’m sorry_ , he kept thinking. _I’m so sorry._

Seven days and nothing changed. As long as he obeyed, Isabelle didn’t let Charlotte approach him, even if the thing that had been her sister seemed to fight the restriction more strongly as time passed.

The morning of the eighth day, Dean woke up feeling sore all over with a vague pain in his chest. That’s when he started losing all the remaining control he had over the situation.

Or the control he'd thought he had anyway.


	11. Chapter 11

_Freeport, June 24_

Sam shut the door of Bobby’s car way harder than was necessary, walking toward the house with giant footsteps, undoing the knot of his tie at the same time.

Freaking cheap suit.

“Sam,” Bobby warned behind him.

“What? WHAT, Bobby? M’telling you, that supposed witness we just interrogated was the last one. And it was another dead end!”

“Try to calm down before going inside.”

Sam shook his head and released his death grip on the door knob, then brushed his hair away from his face. “Yeah… Yeah, I…”

But he couldn’t. He started pacing on the small porch, breathing hard through his nose.

“It’s been nine days! Nine fucking days and we aren’t any closer than we were when he first disappeared.”

“I know, boy.”

“We have to find him, Bobby, I can’t…”

Bobby stepped up on the porch, scratching his beard. He looked like he’d aged several years in the last week. Sam knew he didn’t look much better. 

“We will.”

“How?” Sam murmured.

“I don’t know, but we will. Now, think about the kid who's waiting for you inside, okay? You need to calm down. She’s disturbed enough as it is.”

“Yeah.” Sam sighed deeply and forced himself to stop. His hands were clenching and unclenching spasmodically. _Sue_ , he told himself. _Think about her._

Sue with her dull eyes and her constant crying fits, Sue who had spent the first three days that her daddy had been missing just repeating Dean’s name each time she’d heard a noise or Sam took her somewhere. Then, she’d stopped all of a sudden, like she somehow understood that her father wouldn’t just reappear magically. She was quiet now. Quiet and sad, the look in her green eyes too serious for one so young.

She needed Sam so much. 

Now that they were…

 _No, no no no no_ , Sam thought, biting the inside of his cheeks until he tasted blood. _Don’t start thinking like that._

How, how was he supposed to think? With Bobby and Ellen's help, he had spent a week researching and interrogating and digging and they weren’t any closer to finding Dean than they had been nine days ago.

They had started methodically enough, with the facts, checking and double checking everyone Dean and Sam had meet in the last two years, going wider in their research as the days went by. Clover and her family had been clean, as had Rania, and Maria Baker, Sam and Dean’s employers and Sam’s co-workers. Nothing had been left to chance. They had listened to the news, checked the admittance logs at the local hospital, looked for strange articles in the papers and on the internet. They had interrogated people who had witnessed strange occurrences in the area. Bobby had contacted other hunters and some useful friends.

Nothing. Dean had vanished into thin air.

The trouble was they'd had to remain discreet during their quest to find Dean. They didn’t want other hunters to find out about what had happened because with the possible help would come an undesired question: how had a hunter as tough as Dean Winchester been abducted? Sam knew too well what it was like to be the center of unwanted attention, having been hunted himself. The Winchester’s reputation was a delicate matter as it stood since Azazel had been killed and Dean had been mysteriously saved from a deal with a crossroads demon.

So, they had to investigate while keeping to themselves as much as possible, without mentioning that Dean was actually missing. What had broken into their home and taken Dean away wasn’t some demon seeking revenge or a driven monster of some kind. It was a human. The wards around their house would have stopped anything supernatural.

Only Rania knew the truth. She was desperate to help and seriously worried about Dean’s condition. She didn't say much in front of Sam, but sometimes silence was more revealing than words.

Nine fucking days and Sam was losing his mind.

_Not now. Your daughter is waiting for you inside._

He let Bobby enter first and followed him. Ellen was in the kitchen. When she saw the two of them she shook her head sadly and they knew it meant she hadn’t found anything new.

“Sue’s in the living room in her play pen. She wouldn't take her nap this afternoon,” Ellen told Sam.

Sam took his jacket off and went to find his little girl, who was playing with her set of plastic blocks without any enthusiasm. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, bending over the pen.

She stretched her arms toward him with a little smile and he took her, pressing her against his chest and kissing the top of her head. Sue looked up at him and said, “Daa-dee-dee, ‘kay?”

It was clear that what she meant was: _I want my dad now, okay?_ Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and took her to the kitchen, talking about how hungry she must be and asking if she’d like to take a bath with bubbles that night.

He wanted Dean back too. Now. It was a physical ache burning deep inside of him, that only got worse when he saw how much her father's absence affected Sumiko.

::: :::

Sumiko fell asleep in Sam’s arms. Since Dean’s disappearance, Sam had to rock her to sleep every night. When he got back downstairs, Bobby and Ellen were finishing with the dinner dishes and cleaning the kitchen. Sam didn’t even think about helping them. He sat in the living room with all the notes he’d made about Dean’s disappearance, all the dreams he could remember Dean telling him about, all the incidents concerning their unborn baby and attempted messages to them. He had written down the transcript of the hypnosis session and watched the video several times.

The answer was there, somewhere. Sam knew it. He shifted through his notes, searching for that one missing piece that would make it all clear.

Dean’s nightmares about being hunted in the woods.

The sleepwalking incidents. During the first one, Dean had acted like he was trapped somewhere. He’d mentioned a Dianna, who, Sam suspected, was none other than the Roman goddess of the Hunt. It fit with the nightmares.

There had been another one that had troubled Dean so much, one in which he had been trapped somewhere, heavily pregnant and feeling sick. Something wanted the baby and he couldn’t do anything about it, he’d told Sam.

Each time Sam read his notes on this particular dream, he felt his breath catch in his chest. If the dreams Angie had sent were true, Dean was exactly in this position right now, and to imagine that was almost unbearable.

The most important of Angie’s attempts at warning them, though, was definitely the hypnosis session. Every single thing she’d said through Dean had been about the abduction.

Sam sighed and looked at his transcript. He'd separated each sentence, or fragment of sentence, trying to put the puzzle together.

Dean had been right. It seemed as though Angie’s method of sending messages was to pick phrases from Dean’s brain, his past experiences.

 _Watch out for your brother, Dean,_ a sentence that John had repeated again and again when they'd been kids. It would’ve been easy for the baby to pick up on it. To try and use that phrase to warn them.

Watch out for your brother.

Watch out.

And then during the grocery store incident, once again Angie had used words that Dean had heard or used himself many times. _Be careful. It’s sharp. Hurts._ To warn them of the lights about to fall on the cherry stall.

Simple enough. It was so simple with hindsight.

Then, Angie/Dean had spoken about a vessel. _You’re a vessel, Dean._ That’s what Maria Baker had told him. A host for supernatural beings. Later in the session, it had been repeated again and again.

A vessel. Was there more to it than to permit the special connection between Dean and the baby? Was it something you became or something you were born with, and was Angie a vessel as well?

After that, Dean had become really anxious as he kept repeating _watch out for your brother._

Once he’d even said: watch out for your brother, _Sammy._ Had the message been directed to him?

 _Take your brother outside as fast as you can_ was another way of warning Sam and Dean about a danger, something that was about to happen to one of them. An ever approaching, life-threatening danger.

" _Dad is gone you gotta help me find him dad is gone dad, dad the huntress is coming she no! No, stop stop please, Dianna. Watch out for your brother, Sammy. Can’t see shit in this it hurts!”_

Sam could still hear the panic in Dean’s voice as the baby tried to get through to them. Saying something like “you gotta help me find dad” was referring to Dean's disappearance, Sam could see that now. 

The huntress – Dianna - had been coming and Sam had to watch out for Dean.

He hadn’t been watching out for his brother, not in the way that would have prevented his abduction.

Sam’s hands started to shake as he read the rest of the transcript.

_…Please help me._

_…Please help us._

_…Hurts daddy please…_

“Damn it, Dean. I’m so sorry,” Sam whispered.

No. Had to concentrate. Couldn’t allow himself to let go and just feel the pain. That wouldn’t help Dean or Angelia.

He looked at the words he’d underlined.

**Huntress.**

**Dianna.**

**Vessel.**

**Dark sister.**

**Hurts.**

It was so simple. So simple really. She should have been his primary suspect from the beginning.

She was a woman, a huntress who'd been in contact with them during Dean's pregnancy, even if only briefly. From the information Bobby had given him, he knew she'd had a sister. The baby had reacted strongly to her.

Isabelle Marchand.

She could’ve seen Dean’s file on Rania’s desk. She could’ve guessed something.

Sam had no idea why she wanted Dean and the baby. He didn’t care.

He had a more difficult problem. 

Marchand was dead. Her body had been burned to a crisp. Only a few bones had been found. Bobby had spoken for a long time with Jason Shatner after having cleared him from any suspicion and there was no way the woman could’ve escaped the fire. Shatner had wanted to know why Bobby was so interested in Marchand, but Bobby had remained vague.

Still. Sam couldn’t get her out of his head. Mostly because he didn’t have any other leads.

Something just didn't add up.

::: :::

Nine days. Dean shivered and tried to bury himself deeper under the covers. The fever wouldn’t go down despite the Tylenol Isabelle had been feeding him for the last two days.

His nose was running and he had a harsh, painful cough. It wasn’t a cold. He could feel pressure in his chest on the right side and a rattle there each time he breathed.

He just hoped it was bronchitis, not pneumonia. The room where he was being kept was cold and humid. God only knew what bug was lingering around.

Isabelle was nervous. Dean tried his best to eat and not to appear too sick in her presence because he was scared Charlotte would decide to take action. He knew he was getting worse, though.

He fell asleep around dinner time, dreamed of being torn apart and woke up screaming, trying to catch his breath, but unable to get the air as deeply into his lungs as he wanted to.

Isabelle bent over him, scratching her forehead.

“Your fever is still high,” she said.

“I think I need meds,” Dean rasped, feeling so bad he couldn’t pretend anymore. “This isn’t good for the baby.”

“Get up, eat your dinner. It’s getting cold.”

Dean slowly sat up and was hit by a dizzy spell. By the time he got it under control, the cough was back. He held his chest with one hand, his belly with the other, and just let it out. A sudden slap on his left cheek startled him and he hissed a shaky breath, looking up at Isabelle.

“Stop it. You… stop that. Now. Eat.”

She looked terrified, pressing the handle of her gun to her forehead. 

“This… we don’t like this. This wasn’t supposed to happen, it…”

A sudden purple flash passed through her eyes. She quickly moved away from Dean who held his breath despite the pain.

“You eat!” Isabelle screamed. “Charlotte wants you to eat.”

She closed the door and Dean grabbed his pillow to muffle his coughing fit. The thought of eating made his stomach churn, but he would, not because of Isabelle and the thing inside of her, but for Angie.

 _We’ll get through this_ , he told her. _I’ll get you through this, baby. Sam’s coming to get us._

::: :::

_Freeport, June 26_

The afternoon sun was bright. Sam was sitting on the grass in the garden, watching Sumiko as she played in a small plastic pool Ellen had bought her. She was clapping her hand on the surface of the water, smiling when it splashed, but she wasn’t as excited as she usually got about such things. Sometimes, she would raise her head and look at Sam thoughtfully, like she knew something wasn’t right and didn’t know how to react to it.

Sam took a small plastic cup and filled it with water before letting it drizzle slowly onto Sue’s thighs. She giggled and tried to grab the trickle of water.

“See, it’s fun, right? You’ve got your own pool you lucky girl.”

Sue blinked and pouted, and for a moment, it was like she was torn between laughing and crying.

“Love you so much,” Sam bent to kiss the tip of her nose.

His cell phone rang and he answered before the end of the first ring, never turning his gaze away from Sumiko.

“Bobby?”

The old hunter was somewhere in Rhode Island meeting Rufus Turner who, apparently, had maybe heard something about a hunter gone rogue.

“Is this Sam Winchester?”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“Listen, Bobby Signer left me this number to call if I had some more information about-“

“Who are you?” Sam insisted coldly and Sumiko flinched.

“Jason Shatner. Listen, what’s all this sudden interest in Isabelle’s death? Because-“

Sam stopped breathing.

“What’s sort of information do you have?”

“I’m not sure she’s dead.”

::: :::

After five minutes of standing up in the shower stall, Dean had to let himself slide against the wall to sit on the floor because he was coughing too hard to keep his balance.

_Come on, man, keep it together._

The water was barely warm. He was still burning with fever and knew he had to lower his body temperature despite the discomfort, so he stayed there as long as he could, letting the water slide over his head and down his body. Had to keep his head clear, he kept telling himself.

He didn’t know what day it was anymore.

“Get out of there, now!” 

Isabelle’s voice startled him. She was on edge. Charlotte kept appearing in her eyes. Dean struggled as quickly as he could to stand up and turn off the tap. She took his arm and yanked him out, handing him a towel.

“Come on, dry yourself and get dressed. I got you antibiotics.”

Dean did as he was told. It seemed easier just to obey, to concentrate on what he had to do. He stumbled back to the room, dressed in the old sweats she had given him, his hair dripping wet, arms wrapped around himself to try and ease the shivers that were wracking his body.

There were two orange pills on the table next to a glass of water. Isabelle was back near the door.

“You didn’t eat all of your lunch,” she said.

“Sor-ry,” he mumbled.

He had tried, really, but he hadn't been able to manage more than a few bites.

“Take the pills.”

Dean took the pills and swallowed them with the water. Then he headed to the bed. He was so, so tired, felt heavy and numb.

“You’re not supposed to be sick,” Isabelle said. “Why are you doing this? The baby’s still too young. She’s not ready!”

He apologized again and lay on his side. He was hit by another harsh, coughing spell and his vision blacked out. He felt something snap deep inside his stomach, then the baby moved, a couple of soft kicks to the right side of his belly.

 _Yeah, that’s right, baby. Hang in there_ , he thought, breathing through the white hot pain burning in his chest.

::: :::

“Slow down, Sam. I can't understand a word you’re saying.”

Sam huffed and kept pacing in the kitchen. He could hear Sumiko crying in the living room, but Ellen was with her. He tried to shut the noise of his daughter's sobbing out of his brain and took a deep breath.

“He said he kept thinking about the questions you asked him the last time he talked to you and since Isabelle had been acting really strangely the last weeks before her death, he couldn’t get the conversation out of his mind.”

“What kind of strange?”

“I… he said she was withdrawn and kept to herself more than usual. She was living in a trailer, and would meet up with Jason when one of them found a potential hunt… But when Jason called her about the poltergeist, she didn’t seem interested which was surprising because usually she jumped at the opportunity to hunt. She took it very seriously.”

“Okay, but what makes him think she may be still alive?”

“He went back to Jefferson City. The bones found in the house weren't identified right after the fire and, by the time they were, Jason had fled the scene. There was no reason for him to doubt Isabelle was dead. He… he said he heard her screaming.”

“Okay. Go on.”

“The bones belonged to a young prostitute who had disappeared from the area the day before the fire, Bobby.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. Jason said the fire was pretty bad and that it was possible that Isabelle had still died, but that her bones had been completely consumed. But he had no idea what the body of a prostitute was doing in there. He and Isabelle had been alone. The owner of the house had left to let them work.”

“She faked her own death?”

“Maybe. Maybe she needed to. Maybe she had a plan and… Fuck, I don’t know, but it’s worth checking into, right? I mean… You said her father had run away from France because he was into blood magic.”

“I said he had came here because the authorities were interested in him. If he was a hunter, of course he was interested in magic.”

“That's bullshit!” Sam yelled, punching the wall as hard as he could.

Bobby stood up. “Calm down. I’m only trying to be the reasonable one here. It is worth checking, Sam. But I don’t want you to get your hopes too high.”

“That’s all I have!” Sam protested, surprised to find himself close to tears. “We have to find him, Bobby. We have to find him now. It’s already been too long.”

“I know.” Bobby looked him straight in the eyes. “Did Jason say anything else?”

“I asked… I asked if Isabelle had a place where she would go sometimes. I mean, he freaking drove her camping car with everything that was in it into a fucking lake after he thought she'd died… didn’t want the cops to find it and start asking questions.”

“That was wise.”

“Wise, yeah, but now, if there were any clues in it, they’re lost… But… he said that she once mentioned a cabin she used to go to with her father and sister sometimes. Called it Dianna’s Retreat. Dianna. Just like in the dreams and during the hypnosis session. Isabelle never told Jason the exact location, only said that it was in the New England area.”

“You do realize this is like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“I don’t care.”

Bobby sighed and took off his cap. “Okay. Okay, Sam, let’s get to work.”

::: :::

_June 27_

The spoon was coming toward him and he opened his mouth, but as soon as the puree was inside him, his stomach flipped and he threw up the few spoonful he had managed to keep down so far.

The hands that were holding him started to press harder on his arm and back, then shook him violently.

“Stop it, you stop it! You’re doing that on purpose!”

He tried to apologize, but started coughing instead.

It hurt so bad.

He was so cold.

He wanted to sleep.

Why would Sam leave him here?

“Now I have to wash you. Do you think this is funny? You think this is funny, you fucker!”

She let go of his body and he crumpled on the bed. Isabelle’s voice sounded strange, like it was doubled with another, lower one. 

She was crazy. Charlotte, Isabelle. All the same.

He wanted to tell them to stop, that he wanted to get better, that he had to, for the baby, but he couldn’t muster the energy to speak.

He lay there and waited for them to clean him up.

::: :::

_June 28_

“It’s a bust!”

Sam closed the door of the rickety shack in the middle of the woods and, for a moment, it wobbled as if the whole thing would come crashing down. Ellen came from around the back, her hair a damp mess, her face red and dripping with sweat. It was hot, even under the cover of the leafy canopy above them.

“Yeah, there’s no one here. Maybe Bobby and Rufus will have more luck.”

“We don’t even know where to look.”

They were in the middle of the Catskills, having followed a tip from someone who knew someone who though there was a hunter's hiding spot nearby. The place was in bad shape, ready to collapse, and it was evident that no one had been here in years.

Sam sat on a tree stump and pulled his hair away from his face. He felt exhausted and sick to his stomach, short of breath.

“Okay, we still have time to check one last spot today,” Ellen said, refusing to get discouraged. “Come on, Sam.”

“It’s been two weeks, Ellen.”

“I know. That’s why we have to keep going. Come on, honey, we’ll find him.”

::: :::

_June 29_

Charlotte’s hands hurt him so much when they slipped inside of him to get to the baby and he thought he yelled, although he wasn’t sure.

Didn’t know anything anymore, curled up on the bed, trying to breathe, just trying to keep on breathing.

“You’re too sick. The baby is suffering, you’re gonna ruin everything!” 

Isabelle, roughly wiping his face.

 _Leave me alone,_ he thought. _Leave us alone._

And then he was alone with no knowledge of how much time had passed. He was thirsty, but he couldn’t keep anything down. 

Where was he?

Sam. Sumiko. Was Sumiko safe?

He floated. For a long time.

He longed to have that connection back again, with the baby. The baby was suffering. His fault. He was trying to get better, he just couldn’t.

Fucking golden threads.

He’d cut them.

Closing his eyes – or were they already closed? He didn’t know anymore. They were burning hot, like the rest of him. 

He saw the rope. White and solid, but the golden threads weren’t there anymore.

If Angelia could only feel him, could know that he was trying to protect her, that he was there with her.

The golden threads wouldn’t come back, no matter how hard he tried to imagine them.

He was going to die. 

The rope changed in his mind, something flickered, a flash of color mixing with all the white.

And for a moment, the whole rope glistened gold.

::: :::

The map of Maine state was deployed on the coffee table and Bobby was marking some area with an 'X', mumbling on the phone. Rufus Turner was at the other end of the line. He’d been the only hunter Bobby trusted enough to ask for help and he’d come. He’d already met Dean once, knew the Winchesters by reputation, and had been okay with the little information Bobby had been able to give him – Dean had been kidnapped. The end.

Sam hoped this Rufus guy knew how to hold his tongue.

Sumiko made a small bubble of saliva and settled more closely on his chest. It was the middle of the afternoon and she hadn’t wanted be left in her crib for her nap. For the last couple of days, she’d spent most of her time at Rania’s while the rest of them looked for Dean, and now she held onto Sam like she was afraid he would disappear too.

Sam and Ellen had come back from the Catskills late in the night and he was having trouble staying awake, numbed by a sense of helplessness he couldn't fight anymore. The voice in his mind that was saying it was too late was getting more insistent. 

“There you go,” Ellen said, putting a cup of coffee on the floor next to him. She sighed and sat next to Bobby. 

She was as exhausted as Sam, dark circles under her eyes, tension lines around her mouth. Exhausted and sad. Even Bobby was starting to look like he was working for a desperate cause.

And then…

_Sam didn’t really know how it happened. One second, he was sitting in the living room chair with Sumiko on his lap, then there was a flash, like somebody had taken a picture, and he felt like something was lifting him from the ground, a tingling sensation running all over him. A soft pounding started behind his eyes and in his temples, like the beginning of a vision but without the pain._

_He found himself standing in a small clearing, under a sky covered with white clouds, a soft wind blowing through the trees._

_“We’re here.” A little girl’s voice said._

_Sam realized he was holding a smaller hand, warm and soft. He lowered his head and saw a little girl who couldn’t be more than five or six. She had dark brown, wavy hair, a round pale face with big grey eyes and a nose covered in freckles. She wore a white corduroy dress with a small flower pattern, something Sam recognized from one of the pictures Jessica had from her childhood and kept on a dresser in the apartment they'd shared._

_“Angelia,” he said without a doubt._

_He wondered for a second if his second daughter would really look like this, or if she’d picked stuff from his brain to represent herself. She had John’s hair and a certain resemblance to him, Dean’s nose and mouth, Mary’s eyes -according to the photos Sam had seen anyway._

_“I don’t know,” she answered his unspoken question. “I don’t know how I do it.”_

_She smiled at him, tilting her head. Her eyes remained serious. “You need to hurry, dad. Dean isn’t doing well. Me neither. We’re sick.”_

_“I’m so sorry, baby. So sorry. I can’t find you.”_

_“We’re there.”_

_Angelia raised her free arm and pointed right in front of her and, suddenly, there was a cabin there, more of a small house really, looking solid and well kept._

_“But I don’t-“_

_And then they weren’t standing in the clearing anymore. They were crouching in front of a small window near the ground. Angelia pressed her hand against it and whatever blocked the view disappeared._

_“Look. Daddy’s sick.” Angelia murmured in a sad small voice._

_Sam saw Dean lying on a bed, shivering under a thin blanket. He had one arm wrapped around his head and was coughing into his pillow._

_“Oh god.”_

_“We don’t have much time,” Angie told him as a tear slid down her cheek. “You have to hurry.”_

_“But I can’t find you! Where are you, baby, please, tell me.”_

_“Not very far from home. They’ve always liked the town because it’s named after the great city of the Antiquity. They’re hiding behind the hill of the Fox, just where the lake ends.”_

_“What’s the name of the town? Angie, tell me I can’t…”_

_“I don’t know. Be careful. She’s hiding inside her.”_

_Sam floated. The sky and forest disappeared and Angelia passed through him, the fragile glimpse of a life that hadn't even started yet. Sam called for her._

“Hey, son, you back? Sam!”

He was lying on the floor in the living room. Sumiko was crying, Bobby was bent over him, shaking his shoulders. 

Sam wiped at the blood dripping from his nose and grabbed Bobby’s arm.

“Give me the map.”

“What?”

“Damn it, Bobby, just give it to me.”

Sam sat, fighting a dizzy spell and the dull pain throbbing behind his eyes. Sumiko was squirming in Ellen’s arms, stretching her arms toward him.

Not now.

He grabbed the map frantically and looked at it for a few seconds before he spotted it. There it was, it couldn’t be anywhere else.

“Athens. That’s where she's keeping him. It’s not too far from Portland”, he rasped, squinting his eyes to look at the small print. 

He read what he was looking for in a shaking voice. “Oh. My god. It’s there. Fox Hill Road.”

::: :::

They had to get prepared and drop Sumiko off at Rania’s. As soon as she heard what was going on, Rania left the hospital where she worked to go home and get everything ready for Dean. Bobby wanted to bring Rufus along, but Sam wouldn't allow it. Too many people would draw too much attention and he didn’t want a hunter he didn’t know to see his brother so vulnerable, not to mention pregnant. 

They were three experienced hunters. They knew where they were going. They would be fine.

They would bring Dean back, alive, Sam kept telling himself while they drove to Athens. 

He still didn’t know what Isabelle Marchand wanted from Dean, from the baby. Was she after the baby’s powers? 

How had she learned about them in the first place?

He told Bobby and Ellen that they may need to be prepared for something supernatural, something related to Isabelle’s sister. Angelia had told him that _they_ liked the town, and to be careful because she was hiding inside her. Dean had had a vision of sisters when they had met Isabelle Marchand and had said “dark sister” during his hypnosis session.

They still didn’t know what they would be facing. Bobby thought it might be some kind of ghost or spirit. They were ready for anything.

When they arrived in the small town of Athens night was falling. They found the information easily enough. The only lake near Fox Hill Road was called Morris Lake. A waitress pointed it out to them on the map.

Once they were on the dirt road, they had to go five kilometers before reaching the lake. According to Sam’s vision, the cabin would be located at the far side of the lake. They didn’t want Isabelle to hear them coming, so they parked the Impala under the cover of the trees, one kilometer before reaching the lake.

They walked side by side in silence, each carrying a gun.

Sam had to keep himself from running. His whole body was thrumming with a sense of urgency. They were close. He knew it. There wasn’t the shadow of a doubt in his mind.

He was glad Bobby and Ellen hadn’t questioned his vision, just went with him and followed his lead. The image of Angelia wouldn’t leave his mind, neither would the one of Dean crumpled on a bed.

_We’re sick. You have to hurry._

They would arrive in time.

They would.

::: :::

The night was clear and a thin crescent moon was shining on the lake. Sam spotted a path near the end of the body of water, to the left. They followed it and it was only a matter of minutes before they saw some light between the trees.

There was the clearing. And the house. A small rusty car was parked near it. There was a light illuminating the porch and some from inside the cabin as well.

Sam saw a small window near the ground. It was covered from the inside just like in the vision Angie had given him.

He started running, indifferent to Bobby and Ellen's muffled calls of his name.

He just couldn’t wait anymore. 

Sam ran directly up onto the porch and literally threw himself against the door, which opened easily with a loud “crack.”

“Dean!” He called while pointing his gun in front of him.

He was in a large room, half kitchen, half living-room.

Isabelle Marchand was two feet away from him, pointing a gun right back at him. She looked mad, all of her body shaking violently, her eyes sunken and her face covered in sweat. Her hair was haphazardly tucked into a greasy bun on the top of her head, her clothes were dirty.

There wasn’t anything left of the sharp looking hunter he’d met so briefly at Rania's.

“Where’s my brother?” He asked, his voice firm and assured.

“You're too late,” she said as she pressed her free hand on her forehead. “Just leave me alone!” She screamed.

“Get out of the way or I’ll shoot you.”

“You can’t! Can’t shoot me!” It was Isabelle’s lips that were moving, but the voice wasn’t hers. It seemed to come from out of nowhere.

Sam saw a flash of purple sparks and was shoved so brutally that he fell backwards and his head hit the floor hard enough to make his vision blur. 

“Stop it, Charlotte!” Isabelle screamed.

Then, everything happened very fast. Ellen was waving a tire iron while standing over Sam and a gun was fired.

The force that had pushed him exploded against him in thousands of prickling sparks when the iron went through it. Ellen helped him up before the last of the current had even dissipated.

“Stay near me, Sam,” she said, spilling some salt around them.

Bobby was slowly advancing toward Isabelle’s crumpled body on the floor and Sam realized that the gun shot had been meant to incapacitate her. She was still alive, but blood was seeping from her right leg.

“What’s the deal with the ghost?” Bobby asked, gun pointed at her chest.

“Is my brother here?” Sam couldn’t help but interrupt.

“Sam, calm down,” Ellen whispered.

“She’s my sister,” Isabelle moaned. "She… I can’t control her anymore. She hurts him, she wants to take the baby out now…”

Another wave of purple sparks exploded in the air right behind Bobby.

“Watch out!” Ellen screamed, stepping outside the salt line to wave the iron bar right through the energy mass.

There was a deafening vibration in the air, like a magnetic scream. Bobby didn’t move. Sam stepped out of the salt circle as well. He had to get to the woman who had abducted his brother.

He kneeled next to her despite Bobby’s warning. “Where’s my brother?”

“Basement… the trap door is in the back room… Fuck it hurts… Charlotte…”

Tears were now slipping down Isabelle’s cheeks. Her eyes were rolling, shifting from blue to an unnatural shade of purple.

“How do we stop her… your sister. Come on, answer me!” Bobby said gruffly.

“No way to without…. She’s tied to my soul… Old magic. Gotta kill me.”

Sam stood up just as another mass of electric sparks appeared in the room, bigger this time, like a lightning strike cracking in the air. 

He took his gun, pointed at Isabelle’s forehead, and shoot. He tried to feel some compassion for her as he saw her body jerk one last time, but all he felt was a cold anger. 

Bobby and Ellen stood still for a few seconds. Sam dropped his gun next to the body and turned his back on them, running to the back of the cabin.

There was a trap door wide open there, revealing a narrow staircase. Sam went down, almost tripping over his own feet.

At the bottom was a small space with a thick door barred with a series of locks. There was a window in it. Sam took a look and saw what Angelia had shown him.

Dean, lying on a bed, shivering under a blanket.

He must be seriously sick, to not even move from his spot after all the screaming and the gunshots.

“Dean!” Sam yelled.

His brother didn’t so much as turn to look at him.

“He’s here!” he called over his shoulder, then began opening the locks.

The last one needed a key, but sure enough, it was hanging on a nail fixed in the wall. Sam’s hands were shaking so badly he had to try five times before fitting the key in its hole.

The door swung open and he barged into the cold room, immediately assaulted by the smell: sweat and humidity, something that was purely sickness, a stinking combination of acrid sweetness.

“Dean,” Sam whispered, shocked.

He walked to the bed and sat on it, uncovering the upper part of his brother’s body.

Dean's eyes were shut and he mumbled something that Sam couldn't make out. His face was a greenish white, the skin around his eyes swollen and purplish. His lips were chapped so badly there were bloody creases in them.

He looked thin and lost in a dirty shirt that seemed several sizes too big for him.

“God, Dean. Hey, come on, look at me.”

Sam pressed his hand against his forehead, finding it burning with fever. Dean moaned and tried to fight the touch, murmuring something that sounded like _leave me alone._

“Hey, it’s Sam. It’s me. You’re safe.” 

Dean tried to turn away from him, but could barely move. He was then shaken by a fit of coughing, grimacing in pain. The rattling coming from his labored breathing was an awful sound to hear.

Sam gathered Dean’s upper body into his arm to help with his breathing. After tensing briefly, Dean went lax in Sam’s arms.

“Oh god,” Ellen said, startling Sam who hadn't heard her coming. “We gotta get him to Rania.”

Sam tried to answer, but what came out of his mouth was a harsh sob. Fuck he wasn’t going to cry, not right now.

“Bobby, go get the car. We have to hurry,” Ellen snapped at the older man where he stood in the doorway. He obeyed without a word, looking as shocked as she did.

“We gotta get him to drink, he looks dehydrated,” Ellen said.

“Dean, come on. Open your eyes. Look at me,” Sam said, brushing his fingers over Dean’s throat until he found the pulse on his carotid artery. It was very quick, but weak, difficult to find.

“I’m sorry, so sorry. We’re going to get you out of here.”

For the first time, Sam allowed himself to look down at Dean’s belly and pressed his hand against it. “Daddy’s here, Angie. It’s going to be okay.”

He wished for a kick, a light flutter, something, but nothing came.

Ellen was back with some damp towels and a glass of water.

“He won’t drink. He’s not even conscious.”

“Let’s try, okay? We have to wait for Bobby to bring the car, anyway.”

Dean’s eyes opened to slits. His pupils were blown, almost entirely dark. “’ve me alone,” he said again, trying to get away from Sam.

Sam grabbed the cold towel Ellen was handling him and rubbed it gently on his brother’s face. Dean jerked and moaned, then leaned toward it, his mouth opening and his pale and swollen tongue trying to lick at the towel.

“Okay, you’re thirsty, we’ve got some water for you, Dean,” Sam smiled nervously, propping Dean’s body against himself and letting Ellen get the glass close to Dean’s mouth.

Dean tried to open his eyes wider and whispered Sam’s name.

“Yeah, that’s right, it’s me. You’re safe now.”

Ellen let slip a small quantity of water through Dean’s lips. He swallowed eagerly and tried to stifle a cough that was making his chest heave.

“That’s good, sweetie, that’s really good,” Ellen said in a soft voice. 

She looked at Sam, her features tensed in worry. “It sounds like pneumonia. Come on, we’ve got to get him upstairs. The damp air down here can’t be good for him. Bobby will be here soon.”

Sam grabbed another blanket from the bed and wrapped Dean in it, then stood up with his brother in his arms, pressed against him. Bridal style. Less than three weeks ago, he’d made a joke about it and Dean had laughed. Now, his brother was a dead weight, his body so hot, still wracked by incessant shivers, eyes rolling in the back of his head.

Sam suddenly wished he’d taken his time killing Marchand.

He went up the stairs, avoiding the walls carefully. His arms were shaking from the effort, but he ignored it. He spotted a worn-out couch and sat on it, keeping Dean’s upper body in his arms and arranging his legs carefully.

“Give me the water,” he told Ellen when he saw Dean’s eyes flickering open again.

Ellen did, telling him that she was calling Rania. Sam nodded distractingly.

“Dean, I’ve got water for you. You want to drink some more?”

Dean’s eyes tried to focus and, for a few seconds, he looked straight at Sam, opening his mouth.

Sam helped him with another sip. Dean almost chocked on it, but managed to swallow. “Careful…” he slurred, “Careful she's dangerous… Gotta… Sue… Where’s Sumiko?”

“Sumiko's safe,” Dean. “It’s alright. You got nothing to fear, okay?”

Dean opened his mouth and Sam made him drink a little more. It didn’t go as well this time. Dean choked and started coughing, a wet, labored sound that Sam could feel coming from the side of his lower chest.

Dean’s face turned a deep shade of red and he opened his mouth like a fish out of water, nostrils flaring.

“Ellen he’s choking!” 

“Come on, Dean,” Ellen walked quickly next to him and helped Sam prop Dean up straighter. She rubbed his back and held his head up and, suddenly, Dean’s face relaxed and he took a long hiccupping breath.

“Hurts,” he mumbled, falling back against Sam’s chest.

“I know, baby, Bobby will be here s-“

She didn't even finish her sentence before the roar of the Impala broke the silence. “Let’s go,” Ellen said, helping Sam stand up, one arm around his back to stabilize him.

Sam didn’t really remember how he made his way to the Impala. Bobby helped him settle Dean in the back, “for christ’sake what did she do to him,” he groaned, giving way to Sam who sat near his brother and propped him up so that his head could rest on his thighs. Ellen covered Dean with another blanket, one that Sam didn’t recognize.

Then they were speeding down the dirt road. Dean was now moaning almost constantly, trying to stay awake. He was visibly confused and in a significant amount of pain, but the difficulty he had with breathing, and the fever, were what Sam worried about the most.

“Hang in there, Dean,” Sam told him, brushing his fingers through his brother’s greasy bangs.

He let his other hand rest on Dean’s belly, waiting for a sign from the baby, but Dean was breathing too fast to feel anything over the stuttered inhales and panted exhales.

“Sue’s safe,” Dean suddenly said, his voice almost clear.

His eyes were open wide and he was trying to grab Sam’s shirt. 

“Yes, yes she’s fine. She’s safe. You’ll get to see her soon.”

“Sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Stop it. Hey Dean, stay with me, alright?”

“Rania said it’s important to prevent him from shivering.” Ellen said from the passenger’s seat.

“But he’s burning hot.”

“The shivers will only make the fever rise and we have to try and keep him hydrated.”

Ellen was back on the phone with Rania. She handed a bottle of water to him from the front seat.

Sam started by wrapping Dean up in the two blankets as tightly as he could. “Dean, you’ with me?”

“She’s hurting her…” Dean groaned. 

“What? Dean, listen to me, you’re safe. Do you hear me? Isabelle’s dead. Charlotte’s gone, you…”

“Fuck, leave her alone!” Dean screamed, then went back to moaning.

“Bobby you gotta drive faster,” Sam said between clenched teeth.

“Need to keep his airways open,” Ellen said.

“I’m not letting go of you, do you hear me, Dean?” Sam murmured in his brother’s ear. “We’re getting through this. Together.”

Sam would make sure of it.

::: :::

_A/N: There is really a small town in Maine called Athens._


	12. Chapter 12

Rania was waiting for them in the doorway, all the lights of her house on. They had made it there in a little less than an hour and Dean’s condition had gradually worsened. He was delirious, his breathing quick and shallow, his face had a greyish tint despite the fever that filled Sam with fear.

He got Dean out of the car, pushing Bobby away when he tried to help. “Don’t touch him, I got him,” he said harshly, so acutely overwhelmed by Dean's state that he couldn’t even think about letting go of him, not even for a few seconds.

“Quick, Sam, get him in to the bed,” Rania said, letting Sam take the lead.

“Is Sue okay?” He asked over his shoulder.

“Sleeping in my room, Sam, don’t worry about her for now.”

Everything went really fast then. Rania had spent most of the last hour on the phone with Ellen and there was already a lot of medical equipment ready to be used near the bed.

“Sam, I want you to wait outside,” Rania told him, already examining Dean who was trying to move away from the crude light and fighting the doctor’s hands feebly.

“What, no, I’m staying!”

“Ellen will help me. Sam, you’re almost in a state of shock, trust me, I’ll take care of Dean.”

“No.”

“Sam, we have no time!”

Sam felt someone pulling him back. He tried to fight but couldn’t, just let Bobby drag him out of the room as he started swaying on his feet. His vision blurred. He was barely aware of the door closing on him and being taken to the kitchen where Bobby sat him on a chair and kept a solid arm on his shoulder.

“Try to slow down your breathing, son.”

“I’m fine, Bobby, damn it,” he said, but he knew he wasn’t. The adrenaline that had kept him going was slowly receding. His heart was beating almost painfully hard in his chest, his hands were shaking and his legs and arms were numb. He wondered how he had been able to carry Dean without feeling the strain on his muscles.

Bobby didn’t say anything, just patted him on the shoulder and filled a glass with tap water for him. Sam drank it in one large gulp. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was.

“I have to go back in there,” he said.

“Here.”

Bobby put a small glass of what looked like whisky next to the empty glass of water. Sam downed it mechanically.

“This is so fucked up? Why did she do it?”

“M’guessing Dean will have more answers than we do. I’ll have to go back to the cabin, Sam. Do some clean up and make sure killing Isabelle killed the spirit too.”

Sam nodded without any interest. Right now, all that mattered was Dean. It was hard, letting Rania work without being nearby, so he stood up and announced that he’d go check on Sumiko.

His daughter was sleeping soundly in her _pack n’ play_ , huddled in a corner with her blankets tucked under her. Sam sat on Rania’s bed and looked at her for a long time, trying not to think. 

Trying not to think about how bad and ill Dean looked, or how his illness and captivity could’ve affected the baby. 

Looking over Sumiko helped, but didn’t stop Sam’s hyperactive brain from imagining a thousand catastrophic scenarios.

Then, suddenly, Bobby was in the entrance of the room, his cap in his hands. “Rania needs you.”

Sam all but ran to them and was stopped by Rania who kept the door closed behind her.

“What’s going on?”

“I’ve been giving Dean a bolus IV drip to rehydrate him because that was the more urgent problem and he’s starting to get agitated. Need you to keep him calm because panic makes his heartbeat accelerate and we can’t afford that right now.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

Rania shrugged. “It’s still early to say. He’s got pneumonia and a bad fever. To tell you the truth, he’d be better off in a hospital.”

“God. What…what about the baby?”

“For now, all I’m doing is watching the foetal monitor. She’s in distress, her heartbeat is way too slow for my liking. You have to prepare yourself, Sam. I’m sorry, but she might not make it. For now, there is no sign of early labor, but dehydration is a trigger and-”

“She’ll be okay. She’s stronger than you think,” Sam cut her off abruptly, picturing the little girl in his vision and refusing to imagine that Angelia wouldn’t be that little girl one day.

“Sam, let’s… take it one step at a time. I still have some stuff to do and right now, I want you to come inside with me and be as calm as possible, okay?” Rania sighed and blew away a strand of hair that had escaped the bun tied behind her head.

“Yeah, I’m calm.”

It was still a shock to see Dean, even if Sam had been the one to find him in that basement. The bed was raised at a 90 degree sitting position and there was an oxygen mask covering most of his face with his eyes wide and shinning with fear above it. Rania had cut his shirt right up the middle, exposing his torso on which cardiac sensors had been glued. The large elastic band of the foetal monitor was wrapped around his belly, and there, under the crude light, Sam got the impression that it had deflated somewhat. He wondered how much weight Dean could have lost in two weeks of captivity.

There were beeps in the room, the noise of the baby's heartbeat, as heard over the monitor, was the loudest of them all. Two tanks of oxygen were sitting on the floor near the bed, a lot of sterile packages open, but as yet unused were lying on a medical cart. The IV drip was flowing fast, and a smaller second bag was waiting to be used.

 _This is crazy_ , Sam though, trying to get himself together. _He should be in a hospital with a whole team watching over him. What do we think we’re doing here?_

Ellen was near the bed, holding Dean’s hand and speaking to him softly, but Dean was still shaking his head slowly from left to right and moaning softly under the oxygen mask.

“Sam is here, Dean,” Ellen said, backing up a few steps.

“Hey.” Sam kept his voice calm and light, as if there was nothing to worry about as he got close to the bed. Dean’s raised his hand, his trembling fingers clawing in the air like he wanted to grab Sam’s shirt.

“You gotta keep calm, Dean. You’re safe now, everything’s under control, okay?”

Dean’s eyes locked on his immediately and Sam took his hand without relinquishing that eye contact.

“He’s still pretty confused,” Rania told him, getting back to work. “His fever is high and it will take some time before the IV drip begins to have an effect. I’ve given him something for the pain, but now I have to install a Foley so it’s very important that you keep him as calm as possible, okay?”

Sam nodded and bent over Dean’s belly so that he wouldn’t see what was going on and Sam’s face would be the only thing in his line of vision.

“You’re gonna be alright, ya know? You freaking scared me, man. Don’t you ever disappear on me like that again.”

Dean stopped shaking his head and his hand relaxed slightly in Sam's grip. His eyes were bright and pleading, drinking in the sight of Sam in a way that made his heart clench so hard it hurt.

Sam talked. He spoke about what Sumiko had been up to, and about her birthday which would be there before they knew it. When Rania did something that made him tense up and grimace in pain, Sam got even closer and murmured in a soothing voice. “Angelia led me to you. She saved the both of you. I saw her Dean and she’s so pretty, so different from Sumiko, but there's a resemblance nonetheless, and she… she’s got your nose and your freckles and it’s cute, you can’t stop me from saying it this time, can you?”

Dean blinked and there were so many emotions passing through his eyes it was like an entire conversation. These weren't things they normally said, this wasn’t their usual way of talking to each other, but Sam went on, his voice like a caress that could sooth Dean’s pain and confusion, and his words a tale of their extraordinary daughter. Dean didn’t move, but he drank in everything Sam told him, and his eyelids slowly started to droop, his eyes working hard to keep their focus, but losing the battle.

“He’s falling asleep,” Sam said to Rania and was surprised to see she was finished, everything settled and Dean’s lower body covered with blankets. She’d also lowered the lighting and was checking Dean’s vitals on a monitor.

“Good,” she said. “That’s good. He needs rest.”

Sam looked around and noticed that Ellen was no longer in the room with them. “Where’s Ellen?”

“I sent her with Bobby to a clinic an hour away from here to get some I.V. antibiotics and specialized equipment we don’t keep at my medical clinic.”

“Will they have to break in?”

Rania shrugged. “What other choice do we have? It's a plastic surgery clinic and I know for a fact that stealing some stuff from them won’t endanger anyone’s life.”

Sam nodded and looked back at Dean who’s eyes were now open to mere slits. “Come on, Dean, let go. I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

With one last blink, Dean’s eyes closed for good and he let out a raspy hiccupping sigh.

“Good. That’s good,” Rania said. “I’ll do the ultrasound in a few minutes.”

It was now two in the morning, one of the longest nights on Sam’s long list of never-ending nights. He stayed right where he was, next to Dean, watching his chest rise and fall unevenly. 

Rania unstrapped the baby monitor and poured some gel on Dean’s belly. He shivered but didn’t wake up. Sam squeezed his hand tighter.

“Oh, there you are sweetie,” Rania murmured and she couldn’t repress a smile when she saw the soft movements of Angie’s arms and legs. Sam was staring at the screen, observing the small body of his daughter, praying to he didn’t even know who that she would be alright.

Rania took some measurements and isolated the heartbeat. “Still a little slow, but it’s picking up,” she whispered. “Oh. Wait…”

“What?”

“I…”

“What?”

“Sam. When I examined Dean I found some traces of blood on the inside of his thighs. Not much, but still…”

“What does that mean?” 

Sam could feel a fresh wave of panic rising from the depths of his stomach.

“The condition is called placental abruption. See, there?”

Sam shook his head. He couldn’t see anything except a darker grey area on a grey image.

“A small part of the placenta got separated from the uterus. That might explain the foetal distress and the bleeding, but I don’t think so. It’s a very slight separation. I was lucky to find it.”

“Can you…” Sam brushed his bangs away from his face. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“According to the measurements I took, the baby’s development has stopped. I examined Dean four days before his abduction and basically, the measurements are the same. This can be cause by a lot of things, trauma, sickness, shock. Given Dean’s state, I’m not that surprised. The important thing is that the development pick up again now that he's receiving proper care. As for the placenta disruption, it could have been caused by a coughing spell or a… a blow to the stomach. This can also stop or slow down foetal development. We have to make sure the baby can overcome this by monitoring her closely and ensuring that Dean receives the proper care. But, you have to know…”

Rania took a look at Dean to make sure he was still sleeping. Her voice was barely audible at all. “Foetal death is a possibility, Sam, and if the baby doesn’t improve I’ll have to induce the labor. It’s only a thirty week pregnancy. Your daughter would need to be in an intensive care unit. That can be arranged if need be without much difficulty. Back when Dean was pregnant with Sumiko, I had already planned for something like that with false papers, but Dean is in no state for giving birth. Given how he was when you brought him in, a few more hours and I don’t think I could’ve done anything.”

Sam’s legs had started to weaken as Rania’s words hit home and he had to let go of Dean’s hand to grip the bed rails with both hands so as not to fall on his ass. He clenched his jaw, refusing to believe the possible consequences of Dean’s abduction. 

Angelia was strong, he told himself.

Angelia would get through this. 

“But it can improve, right?” He asked.

“Yes, it can. With a lot of rest, if Dean gets better quickly and the placenta abruption is as small as I think it is. I just wanted you to know the risks.”

“I get it.”

Sam felt cold and distant, like he was observing the scene from outside of his own skin. He walked away from the bed, nodding to Rania for her to follow him. When they had their backs turned on Dean, he took Rania’s arm firmly. “He’s been through hell. When he comes back to himself, I don’t want him to know about the baby’s problems.”

“Sam…” Rania shook her head.

“No. M’serious. Dean is going to blame himself, you know that, and it won’t help him recover. I want to be the one to tell him when he’s well enough to talk. He doesn’t have to know everything. What would it change?”

“Jesus, Sam. This is getting out of hand.”

“You’re going to do everything you can, right?”

Rania’s eyes got suddenly darker. “You know I will.”

“One day at a time, right? Hell, one hour at a time. They’ll get through this. Dean and the baby. Just fine.” 

Rania bit her lower lip, then tugged on her arm to release it from Sam’s grasp. “All right. As long as you realize how serious the situation is.”

“I do. Trust me.”

::: :::

_Portsmouth, July 1_

It took Dean more than twenty-four hours to come back from his confused, almost comatose state. Sam didn’t leave his side except for short periods of time to be with Sumiko, letting her know that he hadn’t abandoned her. He’d told everybody not to talk about Dean in her presence because her father wasn’t well enough to see her and he didn’t want her to be more disturbed than she already was.

Bobby and Ellen took care of everything. They came back from the plastic surgery clinic with every item Rania had asked for, and then Bobby went back to Athens to finish the job.

He found a small wooden cross surrounded by flowers behind the cabin. Sure enough, some bones were buried underneath. They were Charlotte’s. Some strands of hair were still stuck to the skull and she wore a dress. There was a locket around her neck with a picture of the sisters inside.

Bobby salted and burned the sisters together, along with all he could find in the house telling the story of Dean’s abduction. When he told Sam he didn’t need to worry about it anymore, he believed him.

That day, during the afternoon, Ellen decided to take Sumiko back home to the beach house. Rania’s house wasn’t adapted for babies and the constant commotion outside of Rania’s office made her nervous and cranky. By then, Sue was used to Ellen and easily accepted being with her. The woman intended to spend the night in Freeport with Sue and Bobby, and come back the next morning.

Sam agreed.

He helped Rania with Dean’s care. There was a lot to do, most of it would have made Dean embarrassed and humiliated, but he was still running a high fever and didn’t even have the strength to talk. Sam was constantly speaking to him, not knowing how conscious he really was.

Over those first twenty-four hours, Dean’s breathing improved enough for Rania to lower the oxygen flow he was receiving through his mask. He had a couple of coughing spells but nothing too harsh or out of control. It was like he didn’t even have the strength to cough anymore. In the evening, Rania told Sam the antibiotics were beginning to take effect and the rattle in his chest had already started to subside. The baby’s heartbeat was still a little low, but sometimes rose to a normal level and it was written all over the young woman’s face how relieved she was to see the normal peeks.

At eleven o’clock that evening, they gave Dean a sponge bath. He showed some signs of awareness during it, trying to help and humming under the mask, like it was the best thing he'd ever felt. After that, his fever start to lower and he fell asleep more calmly, tucked under the covers.

Rania had called into work with a family emergency and canceled all of her appointments as well as her visits to the hospital. She was exhausted. Around midnight, after she installed another intravenous bag of antibiotics, Sam forced her to get out and go rest. She gave him a list of instructions and insisted that Sam come and get her if there was any sign of Dean or the baby deteriorating.

Sam agreed to all her conditions and settled in the comfortable armchair Rania had installed earlier in the room, close to the bed. The sound of the monitors was at its lowest as was the light intensity and Dean looked almost peaceful behind his mask, his hands resting in a relaxed position on the sheets.

Sam couldn't remember the last time he had done more than doze off, but he stayed awake until the IV antibiotics were done and he had to switch to the IV solution. After that, he pulled his chair closer to the bed and let his upper body rest on the mattress near Dean’s belly, relishing the warmth he found there, the simple fact that his brother was alive.

There were entire trains of thought that he kept carefully at bay, dark swirling clouds of fear and dread he ignored with all his will and wits.

He fell asleep then, but it was the sleep of a hunter, still aware, at some level, of his surroundings and when he heard a groan then a weak cough, he quickly shook himself awake and sat straight up in his chair.

Dean was looking at him, his eyes clearer than they had been since Sam had found him. He started lowering the oxygen mask below his mouth in a slow, uneven motion.

“No, Dean you need it.”

Dean made half of an eye roll and coughed again. “G’me s’m water.”

“Yeah, yeah okay.”

Sam put the mask back in place and went to fetch a glass from the kitchen, almost tripping over his feet in his haste to get back to Dean. He pulled the mask down, checking to O2 level on the monitor, but it remained over ninety percent.

“There you go.”

Dean didn’t even try to hold the glass, just pressed his lips eagerly to the rim, swallowing three mouthfuls before pulling back, short of breath. Sam made the motion to put his mask up, but Dean shook his head and raised a hand.

“Wait,” he said, voice scratchy and almost inaudible. “Where’s Sue?”

“She’s okay, Dean, she’s at home with Ellen and Bobby. Now, seriously, the mask needs to-“

“S’ the baby okay?”

“Yes,” Sam lied without even blinking. “ She’s fine. Her heartbeat was a little slow when Rania first monitored it, but it’s getting back to normal. Don’t worry about that. What’s the last thing you remember, Dean?”

Dean frowned. “Got some… random memories of you getting me outta the house… and…” He stopped to clear his throat, all of his body tensing in pain. “Damn my chest hurts. I… huh… have some flashes of being here, with Rania ‘n you and that’s it.”

“Okay, now, if you let me put the mask back, I’ll fill you in.”

Dean’s eyes were shifting from the monitors to Sam to his belly and Sam could tell he was getting anxious. Sam told him about finding him and bringing him here, insisted on the fact that Charlotte and Isabelle were dead and properly disposed of, and kept everything unnecessary out of the discussion.

Dean listened and nodded from time to time. He asked for the date, then sighed, his eyes already going a little out of focus.

“You’ll be okay,” Sam repeated.

“Thanks. For finding me,” Dean mumbled under the mask.

 _I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner,_ Sam thought. _So sorry about all this, Dean._

He bent over his brother and kissed his forehead. Dean leaned into the touch and Sam felt a little better.

Dean slept for a little while. A strong coughing spell woke him up and alerted Rania who barged into the room, barely awake, wearing some pajama pants and an old sweatshirt, her hair a fuzzy mess around her face.

“Is he okay?” She rasped, then yawned widely.

“Yeah, he’s… He’s better.”

Dean relaxed back on the bed, his face red and his breathing quick, but he still looked better than an hour ago.

“We talked earlier this morning. He’s not confused anymore.”

Rania was already taking Dean’s temperature with a tympanic thermometer. “Great. His fever has lowered.”

Dean was mumbling, but neither Sam nor Rania paid attention, busy with the vitals and monitoring his condition. They both startled in surprise when Dean said in a slow but exasperated voice, “Is this mask really necessary?”

He had taken it down once again and was scratching at his light beard.

“We can try the nasal cannula, but if your O2 level goes down you’ll have to put it back on.”

A few minutes later, Dean was looking way more comfortable with the cannula in place. He drank a whole glass of water and gained a little color. Rania spoke to him in a calm but serious voice about his diagnosis and how she was treating him.

“Once the pneumonia clears up, you’ll feel better, but I’m telling you Dean, you need rest. I'm serious. You were in really bad shape when Sam brought you in.”

Dean blushed and nodded, the reminder of what he must have look like probably crushing his misplaced pride. Then, he rubbed his hand very slowly over his face and tried to clear his throat, wincing in pain. When he spoke, he carefully avoided looking either Sam or Rania in the face. “She used a taser on me that day… in our home. That’s how she got me in the first place… What effect could that have on a foetus?”

Rania clenched her teeth together and shared a quick look with Sam. “The baby is alright now. Her heartbeat is almost at a normal rate. Most of the studies about pregnant woman having suffered from a moderate electric shock demonstrate that it doesn’t affect the pregnancy.”

Dean sighed, then broke into another coughing spell. He was already getting tired. His heart rate was rising.

“She injected me with something too, the same day,” Dean croaked when he was done. “Some powerful shit. I was pretty out of it for a whole day. But after that, she didn’t give me anything, except antibiotics and Tylenol when I got sick.”

“Well, I’m still waiting for the results of the blood sample I took yesterday. We’ll see. For now, Dean, I’m treating the symptoms the best I can, so if there's anything you feel is wrong, anything going on, you tell me, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Dean was beginning to doze off again. Rania gave him another injection and he didn’t even flinch. She then left the room.

“Was ready to fight her, ya know?” Dean told Sam in a very slow voice. “S’just… I never thought she’d use a taser on me.”

He was trying to apologize, Sam realized and anger rose from the depths of his gut. Not against Dean, but against everything else: their fucked-up life, the way something was always waiting for them in the dark, trying to break whatever they were trying to build.

Hating what it did to his brother.

“It’s not your fault, Dean,” is what he said, sitting on the bed next to him.

“Yeah…” Dean slurred. He jerked and opened his eyes suddenly, looking at Sam for a second before relaxing again.

 _He wanted to make sure I’m still here with him,_ Sam thought, and the ball of anger grew wider. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself down, then put a hand on Dean’s thigh, a light touch, just to allow him to relax completely and succumb to sleep.

It worked.

::: :::

Dean was eager to see Sumiko. He asked Sam to shave him in an uneasy voice, mumbling something about not wanting to scare her. Sam used his own shaving kit. It was a very intimate moment between them. At some point, Dean smiled lightly and it illuminated his whole face.

“Your eyes cross when you concentrate,” he said as Sam was washing off the remaining shaving cream. He shifted on the bed, frowning. “Dude, do I have something up my dick?”

“A catheter, yeah.”

“Burns.”

“Suck it up.”

“Bitch.”

Sam opened his mouth to give the traditional answer, but he just couldn’t get it out. Calling his brother a jerk after all he'd been through, even if it was nothing more than a pet name really, was too much for him.

Dean observed him curiously. “Sam?”

“M’fine. Fine. Want some more jello?”

Dean swallowed a couple of mouthfuls even though the mornings activities seemed to have drained him of the little strength he had gathered. Still, he wouldn’t let himself fall back to sleep before he’d seen Sumiko.

“Hey Dean?”

“Mmm?”

“You… you wanna tell me, what Isabelle wanted from you? You don’t have to, but-“

Dean’s eyes darkened at the woman’s name. He started to play with the edge of the sheets nervously. “Wanted the baby for her freaking spirit of a sister. Said she was a vessel. Needed her to be born before doing her fucking magic trick, s’why she kept me alive, or tried to anyway.”

There were a lot of questions coming to Sam’s mind, but he didn’t ask any of them. He could see Dean wasn’t ready to talk about it –maybe he never would be, and hell if Sam would do anything to upset him right now.

There was some fussing and noises outside the door. Dean became immediately agitated, clearing his throat and rearranging the sheets, obviously not realizing how slow and clumsy his movements were. 

“I… you know… M’not sure m’ready to see Ellen or huh… Bobby yet. Just Sue, maybe?”

The insecurity in his voice broke Sam’s heart. He nodded and went to get Sumiko, praying she wouldn’t be taken aback by Dean’s appearance.

::: :::

Sam was gone for a long time.

It seemed like it anyway.

Dean tried to gather himself together. There was a new pain, deep in his chest, that didn’t have anything to do with the pneumonia.

Why was everything so hard? 

He’d been rescued. Angie was okay. The baddies were death and burned to a crisp.

And despite all this, he felt defeated. He felt like he’d failed everyone. He was there, lying in a freaking homemade hospital room, barely able to move on his own, tied to more machines than he could count, and thirty weeks pregnant.

The Dean who had been looking for his father, who had fought for his family so fiercely, who had sold his soul to save his brother, what was left of him?

He was someone else, now, someone fragile, breakable, a freak who was bringing another human being into the world, exposing her to the dangers of the life he lead.

What was he doing? What the hell did he and Sam think they were doing? They had no idea how Angie’s power would manifest once she was born, but if there had already been an attempt to harm her even before she had the chance to take her first breath.

If he couldn’t even protect her now…

Dean didn’t have a lot of memories from the last days of his captivity. It was a haze of pain and exhaustion, of desperation. He did remember, however, each and every time Charlotte had reveled herself to him, had gone through him, hurting every fiber of his body, making him feel… violated. With her intimacy. That’s how he felt still. Like he’d been stained, like Charlotte had left marks all over him, inside and out,, invisible but making him ache with the need to wash himself, to drink a gallon of holy water and eat as much salt.

She’d touched his baby, nesting inside him, she’d hurt her at some level, while Dean too incapacitated to do anything more than beg for her to stop hurting his baby.

And now he was scared to death that Sumiko wouldn’t want to see him, that she would sense how weak and fragile he was. She might even be scared of him. He hadn’t seen himself in a mirror, but if he looked as bad as he felt, maybe she would simply burst out crying.

He needed to cough, but did his best to restrain it. Didn’t want his daughter to have to watch him cough up a lung, face beet red, bent over his belly in a freaking hospital gown.

Just as he was taking a careful breath in, the door of the room opened and, suddenly, he couldn’t breathe anymore. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed her until he saw her, wearing those apple green pants that were starting to get too short for her and the bright yellow top Sam had bought at the beginning of May. Her tiny sandals were covered in grass stain and she had a mosquito bite on her left ankle. Dean took everything in, the way she had buried her head in Sam’s neck, sucking her thumb, looking unsure and distant. She had a tiny braid on the right side of her head, so neat it could only be Ellen’s work.

“Look who’s here, Sumi?” Sam whispered at the same time Dean succeeded in letting out a choked-up “heyyy…”

Sue’s head lifted up, her mouth opened in a small “O” and she looked straight at Dean. Then, a large smile lit up her small, thin face and she looked at Sam, stuttering “dadadee-dee” in an over-excited voice, shaking her head quickly from left to right and wiggling in Sam’s arms like a fish out of the water.

Dean was glad he was still under some dull drug high or he would’ve burst into relieved tears like the freaking wuss he was.

Sam looked relieved too, smile all in dimples and his cheeks pink. He got closer to Dean, trying to restrain Sumiko when she literally screamed Dean’s name and stretched her hands in front of her, close to tears.

Dean needed her close to him as well. He very slowly shifted on the bed to make some space for Sue and opened his arm. “Sam. C’mon.”

“Yeah okay, but you gotta be quiet, Sue? See, quiet,” Sam whispered in an exaggerated quiet voice, practically tip-toeing his way to the bed while Sue waited, both of her hands covering her mouth and babbling something that sounded like “shshsh.”

That was new. Dean wondered if he’d missed anything else. Sue was as much an extension of him as Angie was. He’d spend every day with her since her birth, and the tiniest change he’d missed felt like he’d been betrayed somehow.

Sam was still holding Sumiko by the waist as he sat her on the bed. She was quiet, looking at Dean with wide eyes, the intensity of her emotions passing through them. Then, she did something that caught Dean completely off-guard. She wiggled until she lay on her side, her head on the pillow, facing Dean, a couple of inches away from his face. “Daa-dee,” she murmured, pressing her small hand very softly on Dean’s cheek.

And Dean felt a little better. Like he belonged right there with his daughter looking at him with amazement. Still so strong and giant in her eyes.

“Hey, monkey,” he croaked, and it hurt to swallow back his tears, but he did it, and when Sam turned his head and cleared his throat, Dean knew he was doing the same thing.

::: :::

He slept. Ellen came to see him later, a comforting combination of harsh huntress and mother hen. Bobby remained in the doorway, smiling gruffly, and there was something in that bearded, gruff smile, that put Dean more at ease, like Bobby had just said, “don’t worry, we’ve got issues but we’ll manage”.

Maybe if Dean could deal with his own issues, could put all the crazy events of his abduction behind him, maybe then, it was still possible. Normalcy. Making peace with himself. Being an adequate father.

He slept that day, almost peacefully, his health too messed up for him to dream, which wasn’t a bad thing. He lost all concept of time and at some point in the evening, he was woken up by his toned-down, but ever present, hunter's instinct. There were murmurs, and one person, even though she was speaking almost inaudibly, sounded angry.

Rania. 

Dean cracked an eye open. She was at the foot of the bed with her back to him. Sam had his head bent next to her. His profile was serious and worried. 

“… There have been some cases of foetal death, or stillborn babies after an electric shock,” Rania snapped.

“Yeah, but it has never been proven that the electric shock was the cause.”

“Oh come on, Sam!”

“What does it change? Is there something else we can do about it?”

“No, but your brother-“

“Has enough to worry about, right now.”

“Sam. You have no right to keep this from him. I have no right. He isn’t incapacitated. The taser shock, added to the stall in foetal development and the placental abruption are all serious risks to the baby’s health, and I don’t even know if that spirit did anything to her… “

Dean felt like icy water was sliding all over him, freezing his bones, his brain. His anger built up fast. He tried to take a deep breath and opened his mouth to yell at Sam, damn the freaking pneumonia and his weakened state. 

You had no right to keep this from me, he said.

Except nothing came out. The words stayed trapped in his throat. They were too painful to say out loud, so was the shame of not having been able to protect Angelia. 

There were no more murmurs. Sam was looking at him, his face red and covered in sweat. Maybe he had spoken out loud, after all. His eyes were open. He didn’t remember opening them.

“Dean, you awake?” Sam asked, the fucker, looking as innocent and soft as a lamb.

“Shit,” Rania swore.

 _Shit_ , Dean thought, but couldn’t say it.


	13. Chapter 13

_Portsmouth, July 5_

The rising sun was obscured by grey, gloomy looking clouds. It was seven in the morning, the grass was still covered in delicate dew drops. Sam sat on the stairs of Rania’s porch with his coffee mug, waiting for her to finish with Dean’s examination. 

Today was the day he’d bring his brother home. It was an important step for him. Tomorrow was Sumiko’s first birthday, and he wanted the three of them to be together.

…Even under these circumstances.

The door opened behind him and Rania came out to sit with him on the porch steps, sighing loudly.

“You okay, Sam?”

“Yeah, I am. Ready to go. How’s Dean?”

“Other than the fact that he won't talk?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Okay, well, objectively, he’s doing better. The pneumonia is almost completely cured, although I want him on oral antibiotics and salbutamol for at least another week. The baby's heart rate is at a steady and normal rhythm, but we won’t know if the foetal development has picked up for another week. There has been no more bleeding the placental disruption hasn’t worsened. So all of this is good news. Dean’s lost eleven pounds, though. That’s a lot, and since he’s still convalescing, he might lose a couple more.”

“So, I have to make sure he eats well.”

“Yeah. Sometimes, the combination of antibiotics and the weakened state can play havoc with hunger, even trigger nausea, so I’ll give you those protein shakes Dean hates so much. At least they'll ensure that he gets the minimal calories recommended in a day.”

Rania patted Sam on the shoulder, a rare display of affection that meant a lot to him.

“I want him to rest, for at least a week. He can walk a little, sit at the table to eat and take showers, but that’s about it. No heavy lifting or any physical work. I’ve told him all that, you know? He seemed to understand.”

“He does understand.”

“Sam, Dean hasn’t said a single word in four days.”

“It’s his way of coping, always has been. Listen, I know you’re worried. I am too. I spoke to him, about the baby, I apologized for not telling him right away, but what’s going on isn’t only because he’s angry at me – even though he has every right to be. He doesn’t talk because what he needs to talk about is too painful for him.”

“What if it doesn’t get any better?”

“You don’t know him,” Sam snapped. “Our mother died when he was four, from a fire, killed by a demon. He didn’t know what was happening. It was too much. He stopped talking until he felt strong enough to face it, everything that had happened. He’ll snap out of it when he's ready.”

Rania shook her head, looking unconvinced. Sam wanted to apologize for his harsh tone, but just couldn’t. He needed Dean back home, with him. Everything would be better once they were home, as a family. He kept repeating this to himself, had said the same thing to Bobby and Ellen.

They were with Sumiko, waiting for Sam and Dean to come home. They would stay for the day, then, as Sam had requested, they would leave.

Ellen was concerned Sam would have his hands full, but he knew he had better chance to help Dean if it was only the three of them there. 

Bobby had understood almost immediately. Last evening, he’d sat next to Sam with an expression that could only mean he wanted to have a serious talk with him.

_“You sure about this, Sam?”_

_“Yeah, I mean… You guys know how thankful I am for what you did for Dean and me. Without you, I don’t know-“_

_“Cut the emo crap, Sam. What I want to know is, will you be able to manage both Dean and the kid by yourself.”_

_“I have to. You know Dean, Bobby. He doesn’t like being vulnerable. He doesn’t like people taking care of him. It'll be easier for him if I'm the only one to see him this way.”_

_“You lost your job, boy. Dean did too, right?”_

_Sam had shrugged. True, he’d lost his job at the private college. Their main source of income._

_“Dean didn’t. Called the company, told them my brother was sick and would be for a few weeks. They said that they were satisfied with his work and that since he was compiling old statistics, they could wait for him to get better. Of course, they won’t pay him in the meantime.”_

_“Do you have a little extra hidden somewhere?”_

_“Not really. With the money we have saved, we can go for a month, maybe two if we’re really careful.”_

_Sam was blushing. He felt ashamed, for some reason, not being able to provide for his family despite the fact that the loss of his job wasn't his fault._

_That’s when Bobby had taken a roll of bills from his pocket._

_“No,” Sam said firmly. “No, not again, Bobby.”_

_“You know how I made this money?”_

_“Bobby-“_

_“Helped a rich guy get rid of a fucking curse that had been cast on him.”_

_Sam laughed. “How come Dean and I never found paying gigs like that?”_

_“Your father lucked into paying gigs a coupl’a times. Now, take the money. It’s not much, but it should get you through Christmas, if you’re careful. After that, I’m sure you guys will have gotten jobs, right?”_

_“It’s getting to be a habit, you giving us money,” Sam mumbled, feeling heat rise on his cheeks._

_“It’s not your fault you guys have a habit of getting into impossible situations,” Bobby grunted. “John would count on me to take care of his boys.”_

_“Right, his incestuous boys.”_

_Bobby smiled. “Well, John would have thrown a fit, for sure. Probably would’ve left for a while, but don’t ever think he would have abandoned you for good. I mean… damn it, Sam, I’m not at ease with this, never will be, but I’ve thought about it, for a long time. Your father, he raised you in a way that you had to have each other’s backs, he taught you never to trust anyone except each other. The only freaking stability you had was one another. Now, I’m not a psychiatrist or some shit, but if you guys have this um… relationship, I can’t help but wonder how much John is responsible for it.”_

_Sam’s blush must have intensified, because now his ears were burning._

_“This ain’t my business anyway. All I know, Sam, is that I don’t want the baby going through what you went through with being the Boy King and all that bullshit. I’m damn angry about what happened to Dean, and what it did to him. I’ve seen him broken before, especially when he learned about your demon blood and when his deal was coming due, but this is different. He’s suffering. You make him better, alright?”_

_“I will, promise,” Sam whispered._

_“And I’m working on something right now. A spell to undo Dean’s curse for good. You guys can’t go through this again.”_

_“I know.”_

_“Okay. Now, where’s my whiskey?”_

That had been that, but it had made Sam feel so much better. Bobby had already assured him that he would make sure none of what had happened would be known, in any way, in the hunter’s community. All Sam had to do was to take care of his family.

He would.

Sam went back inside to see if Dean was ready. His brother was just coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go. His every movement was slow, he was short of breath and so pale his freckles were more prominent than ever before.

He looked straight at Sam.

“Ready to go?”

Dean nodded. Sam had been honest with Rania. He didn’t think Dean was that angry at him, didn’t think that’s why he’d stopped talking. He knew he’d been wrong to try and hide the baby’s prognosis and he’d continuously apologized, but what Dean needed to do was to come to term with this, with all the fear and guilt that was choking him.

Sam took Dean’s arm firmly and Dean let him do it. He looked exhausted, ready to collapse. They walked slowly to the car, under the gloomy sky.

It took all of five minutes before Dean was asleep in the passenger seat.

Sam refused to feel defeated. The baby would be fine. Dean would be fine. Sam had never felt more determined in his whole life.

::: :::

_Freeport, July 6_

Sam had settled everything in the garden. There was a small rusty wrought-iron table he planned to restore eventually, Sumiko’s high chair had been brought out from the kitchen and Sam had found an old deckchair for Dean. They would celebrate Sumiko’s birthday as soon as she woke up from her afternoon nap. They'd been home for a little more than twenty-four hours and Dean had been… quiet –well, of course he had been, since he wouldn’t talk. Mostly he just seemed sleepy, lethargic. He’d answer Sam, though, in his own way, and didn’t look especially anxious or angry. Just… far away.

That morning, he’d asked Sam about Sumiko’s birthday by making the gesture of blowing candles. It was an almost childish gesture and that was what worried Sam. Dean’s apparent desire to communicate and his lack of… _Deanness._

 _Give him some time_ , he told himself.

Dean fell asleep on the deckchair while waiting for Sumiko to wake up, protected from the sun by a large tree. He wore a white tee and washed-out pale jeans that just accentuated the pallor of his skin. Sam got everything ready, careful not to wake him up, filled with a mixture of tenderness and protectiveness.

 

Sumiko found it incredibly funny to be outside in her high-chair. She cooed and clapped her hands and laughed until Dean stirred awake. His first smile was for his daughter. It was a light, lazy one, and when Sam brought out the small cake he’d gotten at the grocery store, bringing it to the table and singing _happy birthday_ at the top of his lungs to compensate for Dean’s silence, Sumiko’s mouth formed a stupefied “O” upon seeing the candle burning on top of the cake and his brother's eyes crinkled. 

“You have to blow on the candle, baby,” Sam caught Sumiko’s hands before she could grab the small flame and made the blowing gesture with his mouth. 

Sumiko opened her mouth obediently, then bent down to eat the candle. Sam blew it out for her just in time. Dean slowly stood up from his chair to teach Sumiko how to eat a birthday cake, shoving his finger in the pink icing and presenting it to her. She did the same for him, then offered Sam a handful of crushed cake. He barely tasted it with his lips as Dean rolled his eyes. He helped Sumiko to press the rest of the food all over Sam’s mouth and nose.

Sumiko burst out laughing, the way babies and toddlers do, with all of her body, her head tilted to the side. Sam grabbed some cake and smeared it on Dean’s cheek while Dean made a funny face at Sumiko.

Her laugh grew louder. She was craning over the side, with only the chair railings keeping her in place. Dean never really looked at Sam, but he smiled at Sue the whole time.

Sam took it as a victory.

Later, when Sumiko’s face – as well as both of theirs - had been cleaned and Sam had grabbed the gifts from inside, he went back to the garden to find that Dean had Sumiko with him on the deckchair. She was drinking milk from her sippy cup, her head resting on the top of Dean’s belly while he played with her hair. Sam didn’t have the heart to tell Dean he wasn’t supposed to lift their daughter. He just sat on the grass with them and helped Sumiko to open her presents. Ellen had bought her a small car she could ride on and push herself along with her feet. The colors were bright and there was a big horn on the wheel. Sumiko let Sam put her on it and then she wouldn’t get off, pressing the horn with enthusiasm. It was only normal that the doll Sam had asked Ellen to buy on his behalf didn’t have the same success, but he didn’t regret his choice. After all, Sue would be a big sister soon, and Sam had read that getting a doll was a good way to prepare a very young child for a new arrival.

Ignoring Dean’s indignant glare, Sam took the doll as if it was a precious little thing and held it out to Sumiko. “Look, Sumiko, a little baby. You gotta be careful with it,” he said in a quiet voice.

Sue grabbed the doll by the feet and made a shushing sound that had saliva flying everywhere. Then, she dropped it on the grass and rolled over it with her car.

Dean’s silent laugh made the thirty minutes Sam spent washing grass stains from the doll’s plastic head totally worth it.

It was a good day and gave Sam a lot of hope for the others to come.

::: :::

The rest of that first week following Dean’s return was quiet. Dean followed Rania’s instructions, took his meds, tried his best to eat and rested a lot. There was a distance between Sam and him, as Sam had expected there to be, but Dean wasn’t exactly avoiding him – he just seemed trapped in his own mind most of the time. They would sleep together, but Dean would tense each time Sam got too close, so he gave him the space he seemed to need. As for the pregnancy, Rania had insisted that Dean should come back to her house immediately if he felt a lack or lessening in the baby’s movement, and Sam knew that Dean would make it known, one way or another. Time, Sam told himself again and again, give him time.

Sumiko was more problematic. The first few days after Dean’s return, she’d sometimes look at him with this funny expression on her face, like she wondered what was wrong with him. Then, suddenly, it was like she’d finally figured it out. One morning, as Dean was resting on the couch, she came to him and repeated his name again and again. Dean stretched out his arms to hold her, but she backed off and started screaming. “DAA-DEE-DEE!” stomping her feet on the floor, like maybe she thought that if she spoke loud enough, her dad would answer her.

Dean looked distressed. His mouth opened and closed several times. Frustration was perfectly readable on his face. Sumiko’s face was deep red and she was close to tears. On Dean’s second attempt to take her in his arms, she burst out crying and ran to Sam.

That day, Dean went upstairs and slept. When Sam tried to talk to him, minimizing the incident, his brother refused to look at him, didn’t even acknowledge him.

Everything started getting worse from that point on. Sumiko refused to let Dean take care of her. She’d ignore him most of the time and if when she let him take her in his arms, she was constantly looking for Sam. She started throwing fits of anger for no reason, refused to be put to sleep in her crib or left alone during her naps. Her behavior was hurting Dean and he became more withdrawn, which didn’t help.

On July 12th, they had an appointment with Rania. Dean was so nervous Sam had to stop the car on the way there for him to throw up on the side of the road. He was still sweating and shivering when he got on the exam table. Rania looked shocked to realize he still wasn’t speaking, but she didn’t mention it. She had weighed him and, although Dean hadn’t lost any more weight, he had only gained one pound. She insisted that he should eat more, which was kind of ironic as only a few weeks earlier she’d been worried about the fact that he was putting up too much weight. 

Dean’s pneumonia had cleared up completely and she took him off the antibiotics and Salbutamol inhaler. 

They were all nervous when Rania started the ultrasound. Sam had to put up with Sue, who was whining in his arms and refused to be put down, and so he couldn’t even be close to Dean to show his support.

It was a relief to see Angie moving on the screen. Her heartbeat was steady and the placental disruption, although still there, hadn’t worsened.

Taking the measurements, Rania announced that, even though the developmental delay was still apparent, Angie had started to grow again.

“That’s excellent news,” Rania told them, smiling widely. 

Sam thought that maybe the results of the ultrasound would be the turning point in Dean’s mutism, but although he looked relieved, he didn’t say a word.

Rania told him that some moderate exercise would be all right at this point, but to continue avoiding anything too physical. The ride back home was strange, Sam talking almost constantly about the baby, how she would be fine, and Dean as well, and everything, really, while Dean looked out the window and Sumiko groaned, munching on the hand of her doll like she wanted to destroy it.

The next week was even worse. Dean was physically getting better, and as he did so, he became grumpy and impatient. Sumiko wouldn’t go near him if she could avoid it, and Sam could see it hurt him. He knew that his brother wanted to talk, just couldn’t, and it was heart breaking to watch him struggle.

At least Dean could start working on Angelia’s crib again, could walk on the beach, and didn’t need to sleep so much during the day, but it was a fissure in their family life: Sam and Sumiko on one side, Dean, struggling alone on the other.

Sam thought time could go fuck itself. This couldn’t last much longer. He would snap.

In the end, it was Sumiko who brought Dean back from whatever dark place he was stuck in.

::: :::

_Freeport, July 19_

It had been raining for two days and Sumiko’s mood suffered from it. She was already irritable and impatient, but being stuck inside seemed to take its toll on her.

After lunch, which she didn’t eat but threw all around her high chair, Sam let her play a little with her cardboard books in the living room before her nap. Dean was sitting on the couch, watching TV, not even trying to interact with her because he knew she would reject him. When Sam came in and told Sue it was time for her nap, she burst out crying, mumbling, “no-no-no!” and throwing her books around her.

Sam bent down to take her in his arms, but she threw herself on her belly, crying and screaming.

“Sumiko, enough. Time to nap. That’s it.” He said in a stern voice.

He kneeled next to her, but she twisted on the floor away from him, repeating “no” between angry sobs.

“That’s enough!” Sam repeated, impatient and tired of these constant fits.

Dean had witnessed the whole thing and was frowning at Sam. He got off the couch and slowly lowered himself until he was sitting on the floor. He started rubbing soothing circles on Sumiko’s back and, for a moment, she seemed to calm down. She lifted her head, face red and covered in tears and snot, and realized that it wasn’t Sam who was consoling her. She got on her hands and knees and yelled “no, daaa-deee”, scooting away from Dean as quickly as she could.

Dean grabbed her by the waist and took her in his arms nevertheless. She fought, twisting her body and screaming, literally, until she grabbed one of Dean’s arms and scratched the skin hard enough to draw blood.

Dean hissed and let go of her, looking shocked. 

_Enough_ , Sam thought, grabbing Sue and bringing her even with his face so she could see how serious he was. “Sumiko, we don’t hurt daddy,” he told her coldly even as she was wriggling in his arms to get free. “Time to nap. Behave yourself, young lady.”

Sam put Sue in her crib even though she was still crying and calling for him. He waited outside the room and, sure enough, her anger and agitation died down in less than five minutes. He felt guilty. He understood how hard it was for her to make sense of everything that had happened in the last few weeks.

Still, he held his own, even when she hiccupped his name softly. She needed her sleep and she needed to feel that someone –Sam - was still in control and would protect her from the chaos.

Sam waited a little longer, then cracked her door open. Sue was practically asleep, curled into a small ball, her thumb in her mouth, blinking lazily while tears dried on her cheeks. Of course, Sam felt like a bastard.

He sighed deeply and went back downstairs, dragging his feet, feeling like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Dean was nowhere to be seen.

Sam’s heart froze in his chest, so hard it actually hurt. He called his name, but his voice died down when he caught a glimpse of his brother outside the window.

Dean was down at the beach, in the pouring rain, on his knees.

Hitting the ground with his fists, wet sand flying around him.

“Damn it, Dean!” Sam groaned, running outside to him. He was barefoot, sliding on the muddy trail that led to the beach, swearing and cursing. The rain wasn’t really cold, but the drops seemed gigantic, hitting Sam’s face as he tried to see where he was going.

“Dean!” He yelled.

Dean kept hitting the sand with his right fist, his other hand had moved under his belly to support it.

Sam slid next to him and fell to his knees.

That’s when he heard the groans. They were barely audible, but they were there. Dean’s face was beet red, contorted with the effort to get them out.

“Dean, you gonna hurt yourself,” Sam said, trying to stop his arm mid-motion.

Dean pushed him away and stumbled to his side in the process. Sam crawled to him, trying to get him to calm down, but Dean kicked him with surprising strength for a pregnant man who had been half alive less than three weeks ago.

Sam took the hit in his lower belly and fell on his back, moaning in pain, but turned his head to keep an eye on Dean as he got back on his hands and knees.

“Calm down,” Sam choked, trying to catch his breath.

A very low growl escaped Dean’s contorted face. He was back on all fours, looking like he was about to puke. Instead, he took a long, shuddering breath and started screaming, a low, raw noise that grew louder and louder, so harsh, with so much pain in it, that Sam froze for a second. Then, he shook himself out of it and got closer, helping Dean by supporting his weight and keeping a hand on his back, feeling the strong tremors that were coursing through Dean’s body.

His brother didn’t pushed him away. He just kept on screaming, the sound fading as he became short of breath. “Come on, dude. It’s okay. We’re okay,” Sam coaxed, scared Dean would faint from lack of oxygen.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Sam, Dean hiccupped and started coughing. He wouldn’t look at Sam, kept his eyes on the ground as he tried to catch his breath. Water was running through his hair, dripping down his face, from the tip of his nose and the lobes of his ears.

Sam knew enough not to worry that Dean might catch something staying out in the rain. Diseases were caused by viruses and bacteria, not from being out during a storm. Still, Dean was shivering and in distress, visibly exhausted.

“We should get inside.”

“Yeah,” Dean rasped. “Yeah, m’sorry.”

The wrong thing to do here would have been to answer with too much compassion, or seriousness, to say something like _Hey! There you go, you’re talking again, good job!_ So Sam just nodded and helped Dean up. They were both soaking wet and covered in sand. They stripped down to their boxers on the porch before going inside. Dean was shaking slightly but seemed solid enough on his feet for Sam to go fetch some towels and see if Sumiko was still sleeping.

He grabbed a glass of water for Dean and joined him in the living room. Dean was standing awkwardly, his hands wrapped around the pale skin of his belly, looking so vulnerable and lost Sam found it hard not to take him in his arms and just hold him. Instead, he gave him a towel and grabbed the old Impala’s blanket from under the couch. Once they were both kind of dry, Dean drank the water in one large gulp and all but stumbled to the couch, letting Sam sit next to him and draw the blanket over them both.

Dean didn’t look at him. His head was resting in one hand and he seemed to have drifted off, his eyes wide and glassy. He coughed a couple of times.

“That was stupid.” He croaked. “Sorry.”

“You okay?”

Dean laughed sarcastically. “Am I okay? My own daughter is so angry at me she won’t let me anywhere near her. So, no. Not okay.”

“She’s just angry because she doesn’t understand.”

“Yeah…” Dean murmured, still looking in the opposite direction of where Sam was sitting. “Fuck, I’m so messed up. I wanted to talk. It just wouldn’t come out. Each time, my mind went blank and I felt like I was going to have a freaking panic attack.”

“I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning, about Angie.”

Sam put his hand on Dean’s thigh. His brother tensed a little, but didn’t push him away.

“I’m not mad at you, Sam. Hell, I’d probably have done the same thing. I was angry, at first, but I get it, ya’ know. I was in bad shape. You didn’t want to make it worse.”

“Whoa. That’s… very mature of you.”

Dean snorted. “Wow. You seem surprised.”

“No, that’s not… I mean, I would’ve deserved it. Your anger. I was scared and I'd just gotten you back and-“

“I couldn’t protect her,” Dean cut him off, his voice shaking a little. “I mean, I tried, but I couldn’t.”

“Dean-“

“No, fuck let me finish. It’s… almost unbearable, thinking that she might not make it, after all she’s done for us. And it’s my fault, Sam, because I let that fucking bitch take me.”

Sam sighed. He'd known this was coming. It had only been a matter of time. 

“She used a taser on you. She drugged you. You were six months pregnant and she wasn’t alone, she had a fucking spirit attached to her.”

Dean shrugged, visibly not convinced.

“You don’t understand. Charlotte’s spirit… It terrified me. I couldn’t… What she did… Okay, no, I don’t think I can talk about this now.”

“It’s okay.”

Dean looked at Sam for the first time since the beginning of their conversation. His chin was wobbling. “What if she doesn’t make it?”

“She’ll make it.”

Sam didn’t have to lie. He was convinced everything would be fine. He had thought about this for a long time.

“Listen to me, Dean. She knew what was going to happen. I don’t know how she did it, but she prepared herself. She prepared you.”

“What?”

“Her development was normal at the beginning of the pregnancy, then suddenly, she started to grow faster. She was three weeks ahead of the norm for a foetus of her stage. That's why when her development was jeopardized, she could afford a little holding back.”

“You serious?”

“Think about it. You were putting on weight despite barely eating anything but fruit and vegetables. Whatever you did, you kept getting bigger. Because you had to, because she knew you’d lose some when you got abducted.”

Dean’s eyes grew wider. Sam could tell he was getting through to him.

“Sam, that's…”

“What? Unbelievable? After witnessing what she did for Sumiko when she was choking, after she sent me a vision so that I’d be able to find you? Is this so farfetched?”

“No. It isn’t,” Dean murmured. “Still, the electric shock and the placenta…”

“So far, so good. Rania told us it was looking good. She’ll make it. She’ll be a healthy baby.”

“You sound so convinced.”

“Because I am.”

Dean yawned widely and it seemed like the tension that had been present in his body ever since they'd come back home receded a little. 

“Still, I should’ve been able to-“

“Stop it. I know how you work, Dean. I know I won’t be able to convince you that none of this is your fault, but just try to look at it objectively. For me.”

“For you? You’re a sap, you know that.”

“Yeah, and I don't care.”

“Of course you don't, Samantha.”

Finally, finally, after three weeks, the atmosphere in the house seemed to lighten up all of sudden. 

“Whenever you're ready to tell me what happened to you, I’ll be ready to hear it.”

Dean rolled his eyes and settled more comfortably under the blanket, his cold feet brushing against Sam’s.

“Okay, Dr. Phil.”

“You should take a shower.”

“Yeah.”

“Together, maybe?”

A shadow passed over Dean’s face. “I… maybe another time, all right? I mean, I got sand in my asscrack. Not sexy at all,” he joked uneasily.

His attitude, the way he tensed each time Sam touched him, Sam guessed it had something to do with whatever Isabelle and Charlotte had done to him. 

Sam didn’t insist. Dean was talking. He would tell him about it when he was ready. He followed after Dean and was barely out of the bathroom when he heard Sumiko cooing and babbling to herself from her room.

Dean was waiting nervously in front of her door, scratching the back of his head.

“Think I should go in?”

“Definitely.”

“She’s so angry at me,” Dean blushed.

“She’s just a little girl who misses her daddy.”

“Right…”

Dean pushed the door, Sam standing just behind him. Sumiko was standing up, her hair sticking up with static electricity, the imprint of her sheet on the side of her face. She had an enthusiastic smile that disappeared as soon as she saw Dean.

“Hey monkey, sleep well?”

Sumiko tilted her head and frowned.

“Wanna come with daddy? Get your diaper changed?”

Sue didn’t lift her hands, but she didn’t fight when Dean took her in his arms. She saw Sam behind him and cooed his made up name, smiling all over again.

Sam backed off a little as Dean settled Sumiko on the changing table. She went very quiet, but locked her eyes with Dean’s similar ones.

“Okay let’s do this,” Dean said, his voice shaking a little as he unsnapped Sumiko’s jumpsuit. “Yeah, definitely need a change, you little stinky ball.”

Sumiko raised one hand and, without saying a word, made her hi/bye sign to Dean. Sam could see Dean’s shoulders relaxing as he stepped out of the room completely, but remained close enough to hear his brother speaking softly to Sue when he thought Sam couldn’t hear him anymore.

“… Dad’s been a jerk to you, m’sorry, baby. I know, you've got every right to be mad at me. M’sorry I wasn’t there for you. M’sorry you got hurt… Dad loves you, you know that, right? M’not going away, ever again.”

Sam was torn between relief and sadness, hearing Dean apologizing for something he'd had no control over, but at least he was talking again and Sumiko, even if she wasn’t quite sure of what was going on, wasn't rejecting him.

This, this was the beginning of the healing. Of their healing, as a family.


	14. Chapter 14

_Freeport, July 27_

Dean came out of the shed, wood dust in his hair, a hand resting on his lower back. He stretched awkwardly as Sumiko got up from her sandbox and ran to him. Sam watched the scene from the chair where he was reading as his daughter stopped abruptly in front of Dean and stretched her arms up to put her small hands on the lower part of Dean’s belly, screaming, “baa-baa!”

Dean rolled his eyes and picked her up. “You do know that she thinks _baby_ means stomach, right?” he asked Sam, walking toward him with Sumiko canted on his hip.

“It’s a start.”

“Sam, she’s not supposed to know there is a baby inside her father.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s not like she’ll remember.”

“Baa-baa,” Sumiko repeated, because of course, this was her latest word and she loved saying it. She twisted around and tried to kiss the swell of Dean’s belly, leaving a wet trail of saliva.

“Oh, that’s adorable,” Sam commented.

“Shut up.”

Dean bent slowly to put Sumiko on the ground and she went back to her new favorite activity - throwing sand all around herself until she was unlucky enough to get some in her eyes. It didn’t change anything. She kept going back to it.

With a groan, Dean lowered himself next to her and grabbed a plastic shovel and a bucket, filling it with sand. 

“Anyway, she’s too young to understand she’ll have a baby sister soon.” He said, pointing at his belly. 

“We still have to prepare her. I read the arrival of another baby can be traumatizing for a sibling so close to the same age.”

“What’s traumatizing is what she did to this poor doll,” Dean commented, grabbing one of the doll’s hands and extricating her from the sand where she’d been buried.

Sam blushed. “If you had cooperated a little, it would have worked.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Dr. Spock.”

Dean handed the full bucket to Sumiko who gurgled in delight and began to empty it methodically, handful after handful. Dean winced and put a hand on his stomach.

“Dean what?”

“Hold your horses, it's just a false one,” Dean said. 

“Okay.”

Dean sighed and laid on his back under the afternoon sky, arms crossed behind his head. He was doing better. So, so much better. It had taken Sumiko only one day to stop considering him with suspicion, which had helped a lot. He was eating well and was in better shape, although that was kind of hard to evaluate since he was advancing in the pregnancy and suffered the small aches and symptoms that came with it. 

He had talked to Sam about his abduction only in bits and pieces, late at night, when they were both lying in bed. It was hard for him. He struggled to get out each and every single word. 

Still, there was part of it that Dean still kept to himself and Sam was sure it was about Charlotte. He was willing to wait, as long as necessary, but he was pretty sure it was related to the fact that Dean didn't want to be touched anymore. Casual touches were okay, even on his belly, when he wanted Sam to feel Angie move and kick, but anything that lasted longer than a few seconds and got Dean tense and distant. They hadn’t had sex since Dean’s return and, although that wasn’t really different from Dean’s attitude towards the end of his pregnancy with Sumiko when the birth canal had made his appearance, there was more to it this time.

Sometimes, when they were both sleeping and Sam unintentionally got close to him, Dean would kick and groan in his sleep, waking him up. Dean pretended not to remember the next morning, and maybe it was true, but it didn’t change the fact that any intimate touch, even a kiss, put Dean instantly on the defense.

Sam sighed and closed his book. Nothing was ever perfect, after all, and he was lucky to have his brother with him, alive and well with the baby inside him mostly healthy too.

“I’m going to go do some work on the computer,” he announced, standing up and stretching.

They had gotten Dean’s job back and they were sharing the work. The pay was barely a drop in the ocean of money they needed, but at least Sam felt like he was doing something to make a living for his family. The truth was they wouldn’t have made it without Bobby’s money.

Still, despite his guilty feeling, there was no way Sam was leaving Dean and Sumiko alone to go to work, not until the baby was born and then they had some important decisions to make concerning the rest of their lives.

As Sam got up to go inside, Sumiko was covering Dean’s belly with sand and he was laughing. Sam knew he would have to be seriously messed up to complain about the small imperfections of their lives when there were so many things going right.

::: :::

_Portsmouth, August 1_

After Dean stepped off the scale, Sumiko climbed on it and waited until Rania pretended to weight her as well. 

“Wow you’re a big girl, Sumiko!” Sam said and Sumiko stomped on the scale, applauding herself.

“You’ve gained three pounds, Dean,” Rania told him while he was getting behind the curtain to get changed. “It’s not ideal, but at least the baby seems to be getting everything she needs.”

“Okay.”

Sam was trying to distract Sumiko with toys he’d brought along with him, but when she heard Dean’s voice from beyond the curtain, she ran to him, shoving the curtain aside and letting them see Dean in nothing but his underwear.

“Damn it!” Dean swore, trying to cover his belly, which was… kind of ridiculous. 

“Baa-baa!” Sumiko said with excitement, pointing at it.

“Yeah, right.” Dean rolled his eyes before glaring at Sam who was laughing his ass off. He didn’t bother closing the curtain back and just put on the hospital gown before sitting on the table. Of course, Sumiko wanted to follow him, and Sam picked her up to sit her beside Dean. She looked very serious and calm as Rania took Dean’s vitals, her head cocked to the side like she was assessing all the Doctor's actions.

It would have been simpler to have Clover babysit her, but neither Sam nor Dean were ready for that, not after Dean’s abduction. Dean had told Sam what Isabelle had said, that Sue would’ve been a perfect vessel for Charlotte except that her name had protected her against it. Sam was overwhelmed with fear every time he thought about it and, despite Clover’s dedication to their daughter, she wasn’t aware of what was really going on out there. Plus, there was no way to be sure Sumiko’s name was an effective protection against everything supernatural.

It was bitter sweet, seeing the world through the paranoid eyes of a father, just as his father before him had seen it on his behalf. Sam wondered if the lives he and Dean had chosen would ever look normal through their daughter’s eyes.

Dean’s vitals were good. His blood pressure was perfect. Sue wouldn’t get off the table in order for Rania to do the ultrasound, so Rania distracted her with a Popsicle. A grape Popsicle. Sam installed Sue in her stroller, tied on the bigger bib he had brought with him, and let her get all sticky and purple. She had this blissful look on her face that reminded Sam of Dean eating a slice of pie.

As Rania set up the ultrasound machine, Dean tensed all over until his hands were actually shaking. He’d done the same thing during the last one, but since he hadn't been talking then, Sam had had other concerns to worry about.

Angie had been kicking and moving constantly over the last couple of days, like she wanted to reassure them that, somehow, she was fine. Still, it was a relief to see her moving on the ultrasound screen and to hear her heartbeat, so strong and fast. She was getting bigger, so it was hard to get her whole body on the screen at the same time, but when Rania focused on the head, it was fascinating to see her profile, her well-shaped nose and pouting mouth that kept opening and closing. Sam couldn’t wait to see her, to hold her in his arms.

“Baabaa daddy,” Sumiko slurred around her half melted Popsicle.

“Her development is following a normal course,” Rania told them. She’s not advanced anymore, but she’s within the norms of a 34 week foetus. I would’ve liked her to be in birth position by now, but still…”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, immediately concerned.

“She’s sitting. He head is up toward the uterus, her bottom is… well, at the bottom. For now, it looks like a frank breech, which means her legs are stretched up toward the upper body. She normally would’ve turned into the birthing position by now with her head down, but with everything that’s happened, I’m not surprised it hasn’t happened yet.”

“What happens if she doesn’t turn?”

“Don't be alarmed. Giving birth naturally with a breech, even a frank breech, is possible, Dean. It even used to be common before the c-section technique became a routine surgery offered automatically in those cases. I want you to come back and see me three days from now because sometimes, with specific movements, a doctor can help the baby turn just by manipulating it from outside the uterus.”

“Why not now?” Sam asked, because Dean didn’t look reassured at all by the whole thing.

“Because it’s been a long time since I tried my hand at this and I need to practice my technique.”

“Does it always work?” Dean asked in a low, uncertain voice.

“No. And sometimes, even if it does work, the baby will flip back to the breech position. I don’t want you guys to worry about it though. Dean, your pelvis has enlarged even more than during your first pregnancy, and you still have five weeks to go. Even if we’re dealing with a breech birth, trust me, I’ll get you and the baby through it just fine.”

“That is, if she…” Dean murmured, then stopped talking all of a sudden, looking afraid by the weight of the words he’d almost said.

Sam stepped closer to him, his way of showing his support without invading his space too much.

Sumiko was still sucking on the Popsicle, the lower half of her face wet and purple.

“I’m gonna look at the placenta now,” Rania said as she concentrated on the left part of Dean’s belly, where the membrane was settled. She enlarged the image and frowned, murmuring, “I don’t understand…”

“What is it?” Dean seemed close to going into full panic mode.

“I… Hum. I can’t see the disruption anymore.”

“Like it got glued back together?”

“That doesn’t happen. It’s not supposed to happen. Maybe… maybe I have the wrong angle.”

For two whole minutes, Rania glided the wand over Dean’s lubricant-covered belly, frowning and muttering to herself while Dean and Sam exchanged puzzled looks. Then, she dropped the tool on the table all of a sudden. “It’s definitely not there anymore. The whole placenta is holding well to the uterus’ wall. Guys, I really did see the disruption before, otherwise I wouldn’t have worried you with it,” she added, blushing.

Then, her eyes lit up. “Hey, maybe it’s the curse. I mean, it’s been so efficient up to this point, permitting Dean to get pregnant and getting him to term in both cases. Why shouldn't it be able to fix something that went wrong?”

She appeared relieved to have found a logical explanation – even if this logical explanation implied magic - and Sam quickly agreed with her, Dean also adding his agreement.

It could’ve been the curse, but Sam knew his extraordinary, unborn daughter had just worked another miracle.

“MAM-MAM!” Sue screamed, throwing the empty Popsicle stick on the floor.

She was licking her lips and playing with her fingers, finding it funny that they stuck together.

“You’re washing her,” Dean told Sam like it was his fault.

Sam tried to roll his eyes, he really did, but he was too damn happy with this latest development to really succeed.

::: :::

That night, while Sam put Sumiko in her crib to sleep, Dean went down to the beach to take a walk. He was moving slower now, legs parted wider with that particular stance of a heavily pregnant woman. September was coming quickly and the events from the beginning of the summer had begun to have a dream-like, distant feel to them. Angelia would be with them in a month, Sam thought with amazement, watching the silhouette of Dean on the beach, back-lit by the full moon. 

Dean still needed his space though, which told Sam he was still struggling with what had happened to him. Sam was okay with that. He and Dean each had their own way of dealing with traumatic events. 

Instead of joining his brother, Sam cleaned the living room, which was scattered with Sumiko’s toys. The last thing he picked up was the doll, half hidden under the couch. She was now missing an arm. Sue had torn it off with a vicious expression on her face and Sam wondered if he should be worried about her reaction to Angie’s arrival. He couldn’t help but smile, though.

“She really hates that thing,” Dean said, announcing his presence.

He had both his hands resting on the small of his back and was stretching backward, exposing his belly where it was constricted by a light grey t-shirt. As he stretched, Sam saw a ripple move through his stomach which seemed suddenly much bigger on the right side before slowly returning to its former shape.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, she won’t stop tonight. Full on gymnastic routine going on in there,” Dean said, sitting on the couch cautiously.

He was a little short of breath and it took a whole minute before he spoke again.

“So. I… wanted to tell you something,” he announced almost harshly.

“Okay.”

Sam sat next to him, careful to keep his expression neutral.

“It huh… it’s about those crazy bitch sisters.”

“Hum.”

“I don’t… Fuck, if you laugh at me, Sam, m’gonna punch you in the face,” Dean said defensively, his hands closing into fists.

“Hey, why would I do that? Come on, m’listening.”

“I know that we haven’t…touched each other in a while, and it’s my fault, and you’ve been so fucking patient with me, but it’s getting to me, ya’ know? I want it over and done with.”

Dean was blushing red, evading Sam’s eyes. 

“First day I was there, Isabelle introduced me to Charlotte,” Dean’s sarcasm was tinted with fear and disgust.

“Go on.”

Dean laughed, his eyes remaining serious. He spoke in a quiet, almost shy voice about how the spirit had touched him, about how he had felt it inside of him, under his skin, reaching for the baby. Sam had experienced Charlotte’s assault when they had found Isabelle’s cabin and he couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of Dean enduring this.

“I was so fucking scared of what she might do to Angie. I could feel it, ya’ know, kind of… how it hurt her. I told you I couldn’t do anything to escape because of Charlotte, and that’s the reason why.”

“You did what you had to do to protect the baby.”

Dean shook his head. “Still, she was hurt. I know that. Isabelle kept threatening to let Charlotte free if I tried anything and damn it, I didn’t. I just stayed there, waiting for you to find me.”

“You had no other choice.”

“Damn it, Sam! I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I’m just trying to explain.”

“Okay,” Sam said quietly. “Okay, go on.”

“The huh… the first week, it was okay. Isabelle had everything under control. Then I got sick and she snapped. She didn’t know what to do and she was losing it. Charlotte was getting stronger and… You know, I don’t remember a lot during those last days because I was so fucking sick and I had a fever and… But Charlotte, she kept coming at me, touching me and fuck…”

Dean’s voice broke. He clenched his jaw, hard, but his lower lip was trembling and sure enough, a tear was sliding down his cheek. He wiped it off impatiently. “Damn it. Thought I could do this.”

Morbid curiosity made Sam asks: "What did it feel like?" before he could stop himself.

“Fuck off, you’re not my psychiatrist,” Dean mumbled without any anger. He tried to compose himself. “What did it feel like? Having this thing all over me, pushing through me, to get to the baby? Made me fucking feel violated. Raped. Yeah, there, I said it. Made me feel like a fucking sexual assault victim. I felt helpless and dirty and wrong and so mad I couldn’t do anything to stop it, and now, each time you touch me I can’t help but think about it and I hate myself for it. Keep telling myself that you’re not her, that I’m supposed to enjoy you touching me, and I want to, I need to. I miss it, but it’s hard, whenever I try, I can’t relax and…”

Sam tried to hold back his own emotions when he saw that Dean was crying again. Although he was doing his best not to let it out, Dean's breath was catching and his eyes were full of unshed tears. Sam bent his head to catch his brother's downcast gaze, so Dean had nowhere else to look but at his face.

“Remember when Meg possessed me?”

“Yeah.”

“We joked about it afterwards. We laughed. You told me I had a full on girl in me for a week, and that it was pretty naughty.”

Dean nodded.

“But it wasn’t really that funny. I didn’t say anything about it because I'd put you through hell that week, but that's kind of what I felt like too: violated, stained, dirty. I wasn’t always conscious, but when I was I could feel her, pushing in my brain, invading, controlling my body. It took me a long time before I felt comfortable in my own body again.”

Sam had never talked about this with anyone. It was still hard, even after more than three years, to remember those events. Dean looked at him and nodded softly, putting his hand on Sam’s thigh.

“Yeah, must have been pretty horrible.”

“It was.”

“I’m tired of this, Sammy,” Dean croaked. 

He wasn’t crying anymore – Dean never cried for long, of course he didn’t - but he looked exhausted, older. His other hand was resting firmly on the swell of his belly, something he never allowed himself to do, not until the very last days before Sumiko’s birth.

“I know.”

“So you keep touching me, because I need it, and if this makes me a fucking girl, so be it. I’m gonna tense and maybe push you away, but still, you keep doing it, okay?”

“Okay.”

Without waiting, Sam pressed his lips to Dean’s. It had been a long time and the feel of Dean’s mouth on his drove him half crazy with desire, but he wisely pulled back. “Like that?”

Dean smiled a little, his thumb running over his lips. “I guess so.”

::: :::

On August 4th, they went back to Rania so she could try and help Angelia flip upside down. The foetal monitor was strapped around Dean’s belly to be sure the procedure didn't cause the baby any stress. Rania pressed firmly on different parts of Dean’s stomach, feeling the baby and trying to get it to move. Dean winced a couple of times, but he didn’t seem to be in any serious pain.

“Yes, I think…” Rania started to say, but then her words became unnecessary. The shape of Dean’s belly was distorted by a sudden wave. A big bump appeared to the left, then right under his popped out navel. Another wave passed through. “Holy shit,” Dean muttered gritting his teeth.

Sumiko was in Sam’s arms. Her eyes got wide when she saw the baby bump changing shape. Her lower lip wobbled and she murmured, “baa-baa” in an uncertain voice.

Then, it was over, and the shape of Dean’s stomach had definitely changed, pointing more in the front. Angie’s heartbeat had remained steady during the whole thing. Looking proud of herself, Rania did an ultrasound to confirm that it had worked.

“Yes,” she said, beaming at them. “See? Now the head is pointing toward the pelvis.”

“Fuck I can actually feel it.” Dean groaned. 

“That’s what we want.”

Dean moaned loudly when Rania helped him sit up and Sumiko burst into tears.

“Hey, come on, baby, daddy’s alright,” he told her. “I should have known, you're growing up to be a drama queen just like Sam.”

“Shut up,” Sam smiled.

With this step done it finally seemed like Angelia’s birth would be normal. No more worries about placental disruption, or premature birth, or a breech position. This second pregnancy hadn’t felt normal at all until now, but maybe, just maybe, they could have their normal after all.

::: :::

_Freeport, August 12_

Dean was waiting for him in their bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of stretched-out boxer briefs. He was lying on top of the covers in a half sitting position, his back resting on pillows, his hair still wet from the shower. He looked calm enough.

Sam swallowed loudly and dropped his towel. “You sure about this?”

“M’sure. I’m fucking horny, Sam, and this has to stop.”

“Okay.”

Sam climbed on the bed and crawled over Dean, kissing his thighs, then his hardening length through the stretched fabric of his boxers. Dean shivered but didn’t tense, so Sam went on, peppering his large and firm belly with kisses, giving special attention to his navel, causing Dean to groan softly. Sam raised his head and sought out his eyes. “Okay?”

Dean nodded and raised his hips, letting Sam pull his underwear down his legs, kicking them off with his feet. Dean’s cock was already leaking. It wasn’t completely hard, but jerking toward his belly, his balls under it looking swollen and firm.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Sam whispered, settling next to him.

Dean turned his head away, a light blush crawling up his cheeks. “Don’t push it,” he mumbled, then groaned again when Sam started to play with his nipples. His cock let out another stream of precome, rising toward his stomach until it was pressed against it. 

“How do you wanna do this?” Sam whispered in Dean’s ear, then sucked on the lobe lightly.

Dean had to remain in control if they wanted it to work, Sam knew. He also knew that if he treated Dean with too much softness, too much thoughtfulness, his brother would be annoyed and hurt by it. It was a delicate balance to obtain.

“I don’t know… No fucking, for sure. We’ll never find a position comfortable enough,” Dean said while he began to stroke Sam’s cock lazily. “And you know the rule, dude.”

“No touching your birth canal.”

“Damn right.”

“Okay, I’ve got an idea. Move over a little.”

Sam took Dean’s place, sitting against the pillow, and parted his legs. He knew Dean liked this position when they were both too tired to fuck or do anything more complicated than just get each other off, but this had another advantage. There was the mirror attached to their dresser against the wall, in which they could see themselves. It wasn’t for the kink of it, even though Sam did kind of get off on the idea of an exhibitionism fantasy. But he thought that this could ground Dean here, in the room where it was just the two of them. He’d only have to cast a quick glance over at the mirror to see that they were alone in the room.

Apparently, the idea pleased Dean as well because he settled himself willingly between Sam’s parted legs, his head resting in the crook of Sam’s neck, his ass pressing on Sam’s erect cock in the most amazing way.

“Yeah,” Dean whispered, moving his hips a little. “I like the way your dick rubs against my asshole.”

“Jesus, Dean. Missed you so much.”

Sam was shaking slightly, running his hands all over Dean’s body, marveling at the generous curves, at the skin peppered with freckles, even on his belly. His happy trail was almost blond, barely visible, and the hair there, as well as on his groin, was softer than when he wasn’t pregnant.

“Fuck, Sam, do something,” Dean sighed.

In the mirror, Sam could see that his lower belly was sticky with precome and that the head of Dean’s length was red, shinning with it. Giving a small jerk of his hips, he wrapped one hand around Dean’s dick and used his other to cup his balls, triggering a loud “oh” from his brother. “Not gonna last long,” Dean panted.

“Me neither.”

Sam didn’t tease, just began to stroke Dean’s cock in a quick rhythm with constant pressure, stopping from time to time just to caress the leaking slit of his length. He was massaging his balls softly, rolling them in the palm of his hand. All the while, Sam was moving his pelvis up and down, short, hard thrusts that were bringing him close to orgasm already.

It went on like this for a couple of minutes, then Sam perceived a change in Dean’s mood. He stopped breathing and tensed all over, but a look at his face told Sam it wasn’t because of an orgasm. Dean’s eyes were huge and lost, his lips reduced to a thin white line. Sam stopped jerking him off without letting go of his cock.

“Hey Dean. Look. It’s just you and me here, just you and me,” he said calmly, and Dean looked in the mirror, meeting Sam’s eyes. He nodded, but his body was still as tense as a violin string.

“M’gonna make you come so hard,” Sam added in the most sexy voice he could manage, because Dean had always had a thing for dirty talk.

He was relieved to feel his brother’s length jerking violently in his hand. “Wanna go on?”

“Fuck yeah,” Dean answered, his voice shaking a little. 

He relaxed. In the mirror Sam watched his eyelids become heavy, his mouth part. Sam resumed the stroking of his cock, giving quicker and stronger strokes, pressing his own shaft harder against Dean’s quivering asshole. At this point, Dean completely let go. He started groaning and moaning, asking Sam to make him come in this pleading voice that made Sam crazy each and every single time he heard it.

Dean came with a shout, his back arching suddenly, his thighs taut and trembling. Sam followed, plastering himself against Dean’s ass and back, feeling his brother’s warm semen pulsing out of him and slicking his hand.

“Damn it,” Dean rasped, his head falling back against Sam’s chest. 

“Yeah.” Sam panted, kissing the top of his head. “Let’s not wait so long before doing it again. M’tired of jerking off in the shower.”

Dean looked up at him, cheeks red, a cocky grin on his lips. “How many times?”

“What? How many times did I jerk off?”

“Yeah.”

Sam felt himself blush. “Well I don’t…”

“Were you thinking about me?” Dean went on, kissing Sam’s chin.

“Yeah.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Dean…”

“C’mon, Sammy. Tell me.”

“Taking you from behind while you’re on all fours and uh… putting my hand under and feeling your belly so full and knowing that it’s me, I’m responsible for the swell of it and… Jesus, Dean, I don’t…”

“Thought about fucking you too, going at it hard and fast and hearing you make those small grunts you always make when you're trying so hard to be quiet.”

Sam felt his dick jerk feebly. He ran his hands over Dean’s belly, drawing circular patterns in the sperm that was drying there. Dean moaned and, looking at the mirror, Sam saw the way his hand was wrapped around his soft dick. His other rose to join Sam’s on his stomach, fingers interwoven together and playing on the skin.

They went another round, taking their time, pressed one against the other and murmuring filthy things to each other.

Later that night, while Sam was cleaning the both of them and Dean was drifting off, blinking lazily at him, he murmured a soft, “thank you,” that could’ve been lost if Sam hadn’t been paying attention.

He did pay attention though, more than ever, feeling his love and connection to Dean like small electric sparks running on the path of each nerves. 

Feeling like the luckiest guy in the world, despite everything.


	15. Chapter 15

_Freeport, August 18_

The principal problem that came along while August flew by was Dean’s determination not to slow down, even a little. Of course, Dean Winchester was a manly man, even in the thirty-seventh week of his pregnancy, and he wouldn’t admit he needed help. He had been more inclined to do so during his first pregnancy because it had only been the two of them and each symptom Dean had experienced was new and unknown.

Now, even though Sam would’ve liked him to rest and take things easy, Sumiko was Dean’s first concern –his own comfort was way down on his list of priorities. That was okay up to a point. Of course, Sue came first, but Sam was there, with them, and although he’d always assumed his fair share of the responsibility for taking care of their daughter, he wanted to do more, just to give Dean a rest. But his brother was still doing fifty percent of the work with Sue and the house, and since he couldn’t go out to shop for groceries or anything they needed, he seemed to believe that Sam was already doing more than his share.

Sam suspected Dean’s stubbornness had something to do with his abduction and the after effects. He knew Dean felt as though he had let Sumiko down and that he had been hurt by his daughter’s rejection. Trying to talk with him about any of that, even if Dean had made a lot of progress in opening up to Sam and in the way he saw his abduction, still wasn’t easy, and Sam had concluded that getting Dean to slow down wouldn’t work unless he realized on his own that he couldn’t keep up.

That happened for the first time in the middle of the afternoon on a sunny, warm day. They took Sumiko to the beach after lunch to dip her feet in the small waves caressing the shore. Dean was bare foot as well because his ankles had begun to swell and there wasn’t a day that passed when he didn't take a short walk on the beach near the water's edge, his used maternity jeans rolled up to his knees. 

When Sumiko got tired of walking, she just sat in the sand and traced patterns in it with her chubby fingers, all of her concentration on the art she was creating. Her soft hair was ruffled by a warm breeze. She was beautiful. Not beautiful in the classic sense, Sam could admit that without any problem. Her eyes were a little too close together, which often gave the impression that they were crossing. Her mouth was large, almost disproportionately so compared to her thin face, and her ears definitely stuck out a bit – okay, maybe more than a bit. Sam still thought she was the most beautiful child in the world, with her surprised expression and her large eyes. Dean had that exact same look in the rare photos of him as a toddler. He'd looked kind of goofy as a kid, but he had grown up to be the most gorgeous man Sam had even seen.

Dean bent down to take Sumiko in his arms. She was getting tired and that would inevitably lead to some eye-rubbing with her hands full of sand. He had just grabbed her by the waist when he froze suddenly.

“Sam?” He said in a choked voice.

“What?”

“I huh… I can’t get up. Need a hand here.”

Sam quickly took Sumiko and used his free arm to help Dean up. Dean's face was beet red with embarrassment and his forehead was covered in sweat. 

“I told you to-“

“I know you told me. Shut up,” Dean replied, turning his eyes away and scratching the back of his head.

“You’re-“

“Sam, can we just go back inside?”

“Yeah.”

“Bye-bye bee,” Sumiko said sadly, looking at the ocean. 

_Bye bye beach._ Was that cute or what, Sam thought, letting Dean take the lead up the path. Just in case.

Later that afternoon, Dean fell asleep on the couch while he was folding laundry, his chin on his chest, one of Sumiko’s pj’s half folded on his belly. This too was cute, but a little ridiculous. His body was telling him to slow down. Eventually, he’d have to listen to it.

They received a call from Ellen that night. She or Bobby – but mostly her - called every few days to catch up on how things were going. Sam was the one to answer. Dean was playing with Sumiko in the living room – both of them sitting on the floor surrounded by plastic and wooden blocks. The game was simple enough: Dean would build something, Sue would enthusiastically destroy it, Dean would pretend to be upset, she would laugh, and they would start again.

To tell the truth, Sam was amazed by Dean’s patience. He had never doubted how much his brother loved their daughter, but the time he spent with her, just playing, never getting bored or impatient, was amazing. Sam had memories of Dean inventing all kinds of games to pass the time when they were in the car, riding from one place to another, and seeing him do the same with Sumiko brought back so many wonderful moments. Of course, at the time, he had been so focused on the fact that he hated his life, he hadn't realized how wonderful those moments were.

He was making small talk with Ellen while doing the dinner dishes when she asked him what kind of arrangements they’d made for the baby’s birth. 

“Arrangements?” Sam asked, not knowing where she was going with that.

“Well, when it's time, where will Sumiko go? You won’t take her to Rania’s with you, right?”

“I um…”

Sam didn’t know what to say. With everything that had happened, neither he nor Dean had talked about the actual labor, and he felt suddenly ashamed. Sam was the one who liked to plan everything and overthink things.   
How could he had not stopped and asked himself what they would do with Sumiko during the labor and delivery?

Well, there was Clover. She would probably find it odd having Sam call her at the spur of the moment to ask if she could babysit, especially when she hadn’t done it over the last two months.

“We haven’t talked about it,” he finally said, trying to sound nonchalant, like this was no big deal. “We’ll probably ask Clover.”

“When is Dean’s due date?”

“September 7.”

“Hum.”

“But when he gave birth to Sumiko, he was three weeks early, so we don’t really know how it’ll go this time.”

“Okay then I’m coming,” Ellen said.

“What? Why?”

“Come on, Sam. It'll be simpler this way. It’s not like I have a regular job or anything, and I barely see Jo these days. Always on a hunt with her husband, like the whole world depended on the two of them. Anyway, I could take care of Sue when the time comes, and then afterwards, you’ll have your hands full with Dean, a toddler and a newborn. Trust me, you’ll be glad to have me around for a few days.”

“But… God, Ellen, we can’t ask that of you. You’ve already done so much and-“

“Hey. Don’t be an idiot. I want to do this.”

Sam scratched the back of his head, then realized he had just put soap bubbles all through his hair. Ellen's suggestion had really taken him by surprise. Dean probably wouldn’t like the idea of someone piercing their small intimate bubble, but he was way more at ease with Ellen than with Bobby, and Sam couldn’t deny it, if anything were to happen in the middle of the night, if they had to leave in a hurry, they would have no other option than to take Sue with them or leave her at Clover’s house under a false pretense.

Sam didn’t like either of those ideas. He wanted someone able to react if anything were to happen, supernaturally speaking. It was highly unlikely, but after what had happened to Dean, Sam would never again consider them completely safe. Maybe he was paranoid, maybe with time the feeling would slowly subside, but under these delicate circumstances, with his brother giving birth to a baby who had already manifested unheard of abilities, he could not take the risk.

Taking Sumiko with them added a whole other range of issues.

What if… What if the labor went faster than they expected it to, what if they were stuck in the car with a crying Sumiko while Dean was ready to push the baby out. What if Rania’s meds didn’t work and Dean went into curse-withdrawal mode again? Then what? Sam would have Dean to take care of, plus a new-born and Sumiko.

Even if everything went right, Dean would need some time to recuperate and in the meantime Sam would have to deal with…

“Sam, you've gone awfully quiet. What're you thinking?”

“I have to talk about this with Dean. M’sorry, Ellen, I don’t wanna give you the impression that I don't appreciate your offer, but if I do another thing without telling Dean first I’m a dead man.”

“I understand. Listen. Bobby isn't coming. He knows how uncomfortable Dean is with him and he doesn’t want to put any more stress on him.”

Sam didn’t know what to say to this unexpected show of support. Ellen laughed nervously at the other end of the line. “Come on, let me mother hen you both a little, if only in the memory of John. Hell, screw him. I love you guys, I know how important you are to Bobby… and maybe, maybe I’m doing this a little for myself. My baby is all grown up and doesn’t need me anymore. I feel like being a mom for a while.”

::: :::

“Okay.”

Sam suddenly stopped his pacing, his mouth open, ready to give another reason as to why they should accept Ellen’s offer.

“What?”

“Mm’kay,” Dean repeated around a mouthful of ice cream.

“Dude, are you messing with me?”

Dean sighed. He looked relaxed but tired. It had been a long day for him, even with his sort-of-nap in the afternoon.

“M’not messing with you, Sam. V’been thinking about this for a couple of weeks now. I mean, I like Clover, but you’re right. I can’t just leave Sumiko with her, not after… Clover is just a girl. A nice, innocent girl. She doesn’t have any idea about what goes on out there. And we don’t know what'll happen this time around, but come on, Sumiko needs someone to take care of her. You can’t just park her in the stroller outside Rania’s medical room and check on her from time to time. And you’re right. What if the baby comes suddenly and we’re in a hurry and... So. Yeah.”

“Okay,” Sam dropped onto the couch next to Dean, feeling deeply relieved.

“I mean, I’m not excited about having someone here twenty-four seven, but what can we do? We have to put Sumiko first and having Ellen here is the best solution.”

“Look at you, being all reasonable and stuff.”

“Shut up.” Dean mumbled. 

He bent forward to put his empty bowl on the coffee table and stayed in that position, wincing.

“Another false contraction?”

“Yeah, I guess. She's been kicking me non-stop today. Don’t know… I remember Sumiko being quieter toward the end.”

Dean breathed hard through his nose, then relaxed and flopped back on the couch. “We have some serious talking to do, Sam.”

“What? About Ellen?”

“No I… About our future, with the girls.”

Dean was about to go on when they heard Sumiko whining upstairs. “I’ll get it,” Sam said, standing up quickly, not giving Dean the choice.

It took quite some time to put Sue back to sleep. By the time Sam was finished, Dean had taken his shower and was already in bed, drifting off. Since Sam wanted to call Ellen back that same night, he let him fall asleep and forgot about what Dean had wanted to talk about.

::: :::

Sam had thought Dean would accept Ellen’s presence in their home only with reluctance even though the previous times he had definitely been more at ease with her than with Bobby. It wasn’t a matter of personality, or getting along – Dean loved Ellen very much. Sam knew that, especially for his brother, she was the closest thing he had to a mom.

No, what Sam had been afraid of was that Dean wouldn’t be able to relax in front of someone other than him. He was still shaken by his abduction, still stressed about Angelia, how she would be when she was born. He was at the end of his pregnancy, had trouble doing some very simple tasks like bending down to tie his shoes, and Sam was scared Ellen would make him even more self-conscious than he already was.

To his surprise, none of that happened. Ellen arrived on August the 20th and everything clicked into place like she’d always been there. Sam had readied a room for her on the first floor so that she could have her privacy, as well as to give Dean and him theirs on the second floor. The first lunch they all had together was a little tense, maybe because they couldn’t avoid speaking about the abduction. The last time Ellen had seen Dean, he could barely stand on his own and it was difficult not to comment on his marked improvement. As the day went by though, they all gradually relaxed. Sumiko was in her seduction mode, winking at Ellen, even though she couldn’t manage it without shutting both of her eyes, trying to babble her name and offering her toys and bits of food. That day, right after dinner, Ellen insisted she and Sumiko needed to spend some girl time together so Dean and Sam went down to the beach to take a short walk and let Dean dip his feet and ankles in the ocean to relieve some of the swelling.

Sam hadn’t realized how he missed being able to do things alone with Dean without worrying about Sue until then. He felt good, the smell in the air was nice, the waves were quiet, and he found himself smiling like an idiot. He even went as far as to take Dean’s hand into his, which, of course, was rewarded by a horrified look and a punch on the shoulder. “Dude, are you out of your mind? Ellen could be looking.”

Sam laughed. “So?”

“So? Walking on the beach holding hands like some gay couple? Really?”

“We _are_ a gay couple,” Sam replied playfully.

Dean stopped walking then, looked him straight in the eyes with an unreadable expression on his face. “Yeah,” he murmured, like he was talking to himself. “We are."

::: :::

Ellen cooked for them. Things that could be frozen so they wouldn’t have to worry about it once Angie was born. Dean helped. Sam was in charge of the numerous trips to the grocery store. He was also in charge of buying every last minute item they still hadn’t gotten for Angelia, like diapers, pacifiers and bottles. They were planning on reusing a lot of Sumiko's things and they hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about what Angelia would need. This pregnancy had been so problematic they hadn’t really had time to enjoy the simple thought of having another baby in the house. 

Sam took his time shopping with Sumiko sitting in the cart, telling her about her little sister, about small babies who cried and how she would need to be quiet sometimes. He didn’t know how much she understood, but she was excited, wiggling her legs and pointing to other kids, babbling non-stop. She saw a woman carrying a small baby who couldn’t be more than a month old and kept repeating “baa-bee” enthusiastically. Sam stopped in the toy section, letting Sumiko pick a stuffed animal. She choose a small elephant with its trunk lifted up in the air made of different shades and material of a bright yellow fabric. There was another one similar to it, but in pink, and Sam took it for Angelia.

“This one's for your sister,” he told Sumiko.

“Sssissseer,” she said, spitting saliva right in Sam’s face.

“That’s right, sister! You’re going to have a little sister soon.”

“Baabee!”

“Yeah. You’re a wise little monkey,” Sam laughed and Sumiko smiled at him like she was saying: _I know I’m funny, come on!_

Dean had finished the crib before Ellen’s arrival. It was a thing of beauty with dark, fluid lines and even more delicate carving of the different symbols than on Sumiko’s. Ellen helped Sam move it to their bedroom. Angelia would sleep with them for a few months, just like Sumiko had, then they would fit out the small room that was still unoccupied on the first floor. Sam had wanted to work on it right away, but Dean had insisted they wait so vehemently that Sam had given up. 

When Ellen saw the crib, she was impressed and complimented Dean on it until he became beet red. “You ever thought about doing this professionally?” She asked. Dean shrugged. “Maybe. Since we stopped huntin’, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

Apparently, Sam thought, surprised. Surprised and pleased. His biggest fear since they had settled down was that Dean would never find his place, would never be able to do something other than hunting or feel useful in another line of work.

They had their whole lives ahead of them. What that meant filled Sam with a sense of anticipation and hope, something he thought he'd never feel again after the beginning of the summer they had. Maybe there was still a possibility of leading a balanced life, something between hunting and normal that would allow them to protect their daughters while giving them a good childhood.

On the 25th of August, Dean had to go through a complete check-up during his now weekly appointment with Rania. He had hit the 38th week mark and could go into labor at any time. All he'd had so far were Braxton-Hicks contractions, on a daily basis. Rania wasn’t worried. Dean had been more active during this pregnancy and any physical effort could trigger them.

After she’d checked that Angelia hadn’t gone back to her breech position, Rania gave Dean a gynecologist exam. He still hated it, of course. No one liked having their legs parted and someone up close and personal with their private parts. Dean winced when Rania slid her gloved fingers in his birth canal. Even Sam had to resist the urge to cross his legs

“Jesus, it’s… Are you sure you’re not up to my freaking tonsils?” Dean groaned.

Rania smiled and pulled her fingers out. “You can take your legs out of the stirrups.”

Sam helped Dean to sit and put his underwear back on. His brother was short of breath and he leaned heavily on him. He hadn’t been able to sleep well recently and he was back to nodding off on the couch in the evenings. The little energy he managed to gather, he used to take care of Sue the best he could. He was resting as much as he was able and napping when he needed – he wouldn’t have listened to Sam, but one word from Ellen and he obeyed immediately. First time he had tried to protest when she suggested he go to lie down a little, she’d cut him off right away. “Hey. Dean. Look at me. Been there, done that. Now, you can fool your brother with your manly growls of denial, but I know how tough the end of a pregnancy is. And the face you’re making right now, it tells me you really need to take a break.”

That had been that.

“So,” Rania said, washing her hands. “You’re already two centimeters dilated.”

Dean paled so fast Sam could actually see it. 

“I’m not in labor, I haven’t felt anything,” he protested weakly.

“It’s normal, Dean. It’s even a good sign that your body is preparing itself for the birth. It's pretty common, actually, when the due date gets close. This also means those first centimeters that usually take a lot of time to dilate will already be done. So, it’s good news.”

“Okay.”

“Now, if you experience a little light bleeding it’s also normal, since I just measured the entrance of the uterus. I don’t want you to worry about it.”

“Uh huh.”

“And I want you guys to know everything here is ready, and that I have all the drugs I need to help Dean’s body with the aftermath of the curse without too much trouble.”

Rania had already told them she had cancelled her hospital duties for the next couple of weeks and that she was keeping a light schedule at her clinic. She was available to them 24/7. 

She looked very pleased with the way Dean’s pregnancy was drawing to a conclusion. The last measurements taken had shown that Angelia would be an average baby in weight and height. Dean’s blood pressure was still steady and he had almost gained back all the weight he had lost during and right after his abduction.

It was written all over her face that she hadn't quite believed everything would go so smoothly after the events of the summer. Of course, there was still a slight risk that the electric shock, or Charlotte’s spirit, had altered Angelia’s health in some unknown way, but Rania didn’t mention it and neither did Sam or Dean. Sam was hopeful that Angelia had been able to take care of herself, just like with the placenta, but there was more to it. Even if he did spend his days worrying about it, what would that change? There was nothing to be done except to be prepared for whatever might come and the least he could do for Angelia was to hope for the best. Angelia certainly deserved a good outcome after all she'd been through.  
::: :::  
 _Freeport, August 30_

Sam woke up to Sue’s persistent calls for Daa-dee! Daa-Sssaa!” He was alone in bed but that didn’t surprised him since Dean barely slept more than two hours at night before waking up and moving to the couch.

Sumiko was in a great mood, jumping and shaking her head quickly when she saw him. Sam changed her diaper and took her downstairs where Ellen was already up, drinking her coffee. 

Sam settled Sumiko in her high chair and prepared her a grated apple.

“Dean sleepin’ on the couch, again?” He asked Ellen.

“He’s outside.”

Sam took a look out the window. The sky was grey and the trees were shaking in the wind.

“Is he alright?”

Ellen rubbed Sam’s back, handling him a cup of coffee. “Yeah. He was just a little sore, needed to walk for a bit.”

“Mmm…”

Sam offered the bowl of fruit to Sumiko who planted both of her hands in it and started to stuff herself with the grated apple. Sam added a sippy cup of milk and put two slices of bread in the toaster.

“I think Dean is close.”

“Close to what?”

“For the labor to start.”

Sam froze. “What? Did he tell you somethin’?”

“No but there was this expression on his face this morning. Also, his belly has dropped, the baby is lower. That means the baby’s getting ready.”

“So? Feminine intuition?”

“Are you mocking me, young man?” Ellen joked. 

“No. Well, maybe a little,” Sam smiled, cutting Sumiko’s toasted bread into tiny pieces.

He shoved the other piece of toast in his mouth and scattered the small toasted pieces of Sumiko’s breakfast on her high chair tray. She looked at him with adoration, half of her grated apple sticking to her face.

“You’re impossible,” Sam told her.

“Mam-mam,” Sue answered.

“Yeah, I know.”

“If you want to go find Dean, it shouldn't be hard. He won't have gone too far.” Ellen sat at the table next to Sumiko.   
“Is he down the beach?”

“No, the sand was too wet. He must be walking around somewhere else.”

“Okay, thanks Ellen.”

“You can tell him his coffee is ready.”

Sam, who was already heading out of the kitchen, froze in place and turned back to look at Ellen.

“He asked for coffee?”

_Just like the morning he had went into labor with Sumiko…_

“Yeah. I was making some and he said he would kill for a cup. Why?”

“You know, I think I’m going to go with you feminine intuition.”

::: :::

By the time Sam was ready to go out, Dean was back and sitting on the porch. It had begun to rain and the thermometer showed the temperature was dropping. Sam took his old black hoodie – the only one that still fit Dean,kind of - and the coffee mug and joined him outside.

“There,” He put the coffee on the small plastic table next to the patio chair in which Dean was sitting, catching his breath. “And there.”

“Thanks.”

Dean fought with the hoodie to put it on and the fabric stretched taut over his belly, but at least, he would be warm.

“I was so fucking hot when I woke up. M’back was killing me,” Dean said, looking off into the distance, like he saw something Sam couldn’t.

“And you wanted a coffee,” Sam said, trying to sound casual.

Dean looked at him for a few seconds, his hair sticking up in tufts, dark circles under his eyes. Then he burst out laughing. “Oh. Okay. Subtle there, Sammy.”

“Well, last time-“

“I feel fine. No contractions, no disgusting mucus plug in the toilet-“

“Rania said it probably already fell out without you noticing it, since you’re two centimeters dilated.”

“Fuck, Sam, you _want_ to freak me out?”

“No. Sorry.”

“Anyway, it’s not like I’ll stay pregnant forever. My due date is September 7 so…” Dean’s smile turned into an uncertain pout. “M’not gonna stay pregnant forever, right?”

“What?”

Dean looked like a little kid all of sudden. “I mean, what if Angelia decides she wants to hang out in there past the due date, ya’ know, get back that advance she had… What if she wants to stay until week forty-two, or three?”

“Dean.”

“Okay, that was stupid. Don’t look at me like that.”

Dean took a sip of his cup and got this ecstatic expression on his face. “Jesus, that’s good.”

“I bet.”

“Can’t wait for this to be over,” Dean sighed. Then, he quickly added, when he saw Sam opening his mouth. “But I don’t think it will be today.”

“I think I’ll seriously miss Ellen when she’s gone.” Sam said with sincerity.

It had been good, not to feel so isolated anymore.

“Yeah, she’s awesome.”

Dean took another sip and lay back on the chair, patting his belly without any shame.

“Freaking heartburn,” he mumbled. Then, he cleared his throat, which could only mean one of two things: he was coming down with a cold or he wanted to talk. About something serious. “Sam?” Dean began with enough uncertainty in his voice for Sam to go with door number two.

“Yeah?”

“No more uncle Sam for you.”

“What?”

“Sumiko is calling you what sounds like… a combination of daddy and Sam. And I want Angie to call you daddy.”

Sam sighed. Of course, he wanted that too. It just wasn’t possible.

“And I don’t want to hide anymore.”

“Hide like…?”

“You were right. We’re brothers, but we’re also a damn gay couple. Hell, even before this thing actually happened between us, people were mistaking us for gay lovers all the time.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

Dean shook his head and smiled uneasily. “I’m not sure myself. S’just… Family, it’s important to us. It’s everything. We’re gonna have two little girls and whatever we choose to tell them, one day they’ll figure out something doesn’t add up. What will I do if Sue asks to find her mom someday? And what if one of them catches us while we’re… you know…”

“Intimate?”  
“I would’ve said _fucking_ but let’s be politically correct for the time being.”

“Dean, just… spit it out. What is it?”

“Watched this freaking show the other day with these gay couples telling the story of how they became parents. And some of them, they found a surrogate mother to have their kids.”

“Okay…”

“What if… I mean… We would have to move away from here, and by that, I mean out of the country because we’re way too well-known amongst the hunter community. It would mean lying to the girls, but at least we could both be their fathers, you know? They’d see us as a couple, not brothers and maybe it'll blow up in our faces some day, but I think it's worth a shot. We never talked about what story we would come up with to explain Angelia’s existence. This... this could work.”

Dean was now blushing red and biting his lower lip. Sam was a little bit shocked by the whole conversation and it took him some time to take everything in.

“Let me get this straight. You want us to move away from the _country_ and um… start a new life somewhere where people don’t know we’re brothers and let them think we’re a gay couple, a gay couple who used a surrogate mother to have their two daughters.”

“Basically? Yeah. I mean, it has its downside. We already don’t have a lot of friends and acquaintances. And we can’t move to a place where the people aren’t… liberal enough but-“

“Europe, or Canada maybe?”

Dean’s eyes grew wider. “So, you don’t think the hormones have driven me crazy?”

“You were crazy way before the hormones kicked in.”

“Shut… aoww, fuck!”

Dean bend over suddenly, his features strained, visibly holding his breath.

“Shit, I knew it,” Sam said, kneeling quickly in front of him.

“Stop it,” Dean croaked. “Not a contraction. Angie’s moving.” 

He was already starting to relax.

“Wanna get inside?”

“Yeah. A little help?

Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and helped him up.

“She’s done,” Dean said, sounding relieved.

“It hurt?”

“Yeah it… not as much room for her gymnastic sessions anymore.”

“I bet. Come on, let’s go.”

::: :::

Dean was nervous that morning. Sam attributed it to the fact that he felt as though both Ellen and him were watching him. Around eleven, as he was slowly making his way to the kitchen, he grunted, making Sam’s head lift up immediately. That’s when he snapped.

“Holy freaking shit, Sam, will you stop it?! I’m fine, I don’t feel anything special. Let it go!”

Ellen, who was reading the newspaper next to Sam, blushed a little. Clearly she had gotten the message too. Sumiko mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “shit” using the same exasperated tone as her father. Sam found it wiser not to chastise Dean about watching his language around their daughter for the time being.

Of course, as soon as Dean was out of the kitchen, Ellen bent toward Sam.

“I’m tellin’ you…” She murmured.

“I can still hear you. I’m pregnant not deaf,” Dean called from the living room.

::: :::

Dean couldn’t eat anything more than a bunch of grapes for lunch. He was nauseous and impatient, even snapped at Sumiko when she threw her sippy cup at him. She burst out crying and, for a moment, it seemed like he would do the same. He got her out of her high chair and took her to the living room despite Sam’s protests that he should let him carry her. Ellen was in town. She wanted to bake some kind of cake and needed ingredients. Sam could still picture the knowing look of “feminine intuition” she would have given him had she been here.

Dean settled on the couch with Sumiko pressed against him and turned the TV on, choosing an infomercial. Sumiko was crazy about those. She could remain calm for half an hour watching some hysterical guy trying to sell what was basically a tiny and cheap vegetable chopper.

“You alright?”

“Yes, Sam,” Dean said in a tightly controlled voice. “I’d be even more alright if you’d give me some space.”

“Okay.”

Sam backed off. If he went to the hall to check the bag he had prepared two weeks ago, Dean didn’t need to know it.

The infomercial had a sedative effect on both Dean and Sumiko and they fell asleep even before it was over. Sam covered them with a blanket, smiling at the way Sumiko was letting out tiny little snores while Dean drooled on the couch’s armrest.

In the middle of the afternoon, Ellen and Sam were whispering quietly in the kitchen while the smell of the cake filled the air. Ellen was telling him about Jo’s birth and how Bill had almost missed it because he had been on a Rugaru hunt at the time. Dean surprised them by walking into the kitchen, his face still rumpled from sleep. His cheeks were red, his face a little swollen.

“I feel weird,” he mumbled. 

A sudden dark wet spot stained his jeans and widened until the inside of his thighs were wet to the knees.

“Think my water broke,” he added in dreamy voice, then smiled nervously at Sam.

“I knew it would be today,” Sam said, quickly standing up.

“Yeah, congratulations,” Dean groaned. Then, his face drained of all color and he swayed on his feet. 

“What?”

“Fuck, a contraction, a fucking real one.”

“It hurts that much already?”

“What do you think?” Dean hissed between his teeth.

“Okay, guys, let’s stay calm.” Ellen said in a very, very nervous voice.

“Yeah, m’gonna call Rania,” Sam said.

His phone was in their bedroom. He ran up the stairs to get it while Ellen took Dean to the bathroom so he could change.

Angelia was coming, Sam thought with a combination of awe and anxiety. 

“Everything will be alright,” he told the empty room.

Then he grabbed his phone.


	16. Chapter 16

**Warnings** : _Graphic birth like… woah._

This time, it was different. Dean went into steady labor, one contraction every five minutes, right after his water broke. They seemed painful right from the beginning, even if Dean tried not to show it in front of Ellen.

Sam was gathering their stuff and calling Rania when Sumiko woke up from the couch and started to cry. It was kind of chaotic for a while. Sam had trouble getting Rania on the phone since she was with a patient. Dean was trying to get Sumiko to calm down while Ellen held her. When the third contraction hit, Dean couldn’t help but bend over, cursing, and Sumiko’s cries doubled in intensity. Sam held one of Dean’s arms while speaking to Rania at the same time. He got the essential information, she didn’t want him to panic, but they’d better get to her house as soon as they could. She would leave her clinic right away.

Finally, they were on the road. Dean had to put a folded towel inside his jeans because the water was still dripping steadily and he seemed awfully embarrassed by it. He was also pretty upset about leaving with Sumiko still crying for him. So, yeah, different. Last time, Sam and Dean had been in their own private bubble, both loaded with fear and hope and hanging onto each other like they always had.

Now, they were a family. It was just as exciting, but in another way.

“Oh, Jesus, here comes another one.” Dean muttered, bracing himself.

Sam took a quick look at his watch. Five minutes apart still, and by the way Dean was breathing harshly through his nose and holding on to the dashboard, it must be a strong contraction.

He suddenly wondered if they’d make it to Rania in time. That was ridiculous, he told himself, Dean's water had broken only twenty minutes ago. With Sumiko it had taken several hours, even after the rupture of the amniotic fluid sac.

“We aren't going to make it in time,” Dean said, catching his breath.

“We will. It’s only a forty-five minute ride.”

“No. You don’t get it. The contractions are way stronger than the ones at the beginning with Sue and… and Rania said I was already two centimeters dilated and… I don’t want to give birth in the car, Sam!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll clean it up,” was the only thing Sam could think to say, more out of habit than anything else. He was rewarded by a punch on the shoulder and an outraged glare from Dean.

“I don’t fucking care about getting the upholstery dirty, you dick. I just want Angelia to be born under the supervision of a doctor!”

“Yeah, that’s not what I-“

“I’m sorry, baby,” Dean added, patting the dashboard. “Sam, you gotta drive faster.”

Dean was close to going into full blown panic mode and maybe it was just anxiety, but the look on his face, eyes wide and shining with fear, told Sam it was more than that. Dean knew his body. Hell, he was the one who was pregnant. 

Sam pressed the accelerator pedal harder. He was already over the speed limit and he couldn’t push the Impala as much as he wanted to. The worst thing that could happen was being pulled over by a local cop.

“We’ll make it, Dean,” he said, trying to stay calm.

“She wants out of there right now,” Dean replied.

“What? Do you feel her in your mind or-“

“No! I feel it in my body. Oh, crap, the amniotic fluid is still leaking. I mean, how many liters could there be in there?”

“I’ll call Rania back, just to be sure she’s-”

“What? Ready to grab the kid’s head when we get to her place?”

“Dean.” 

“Just… all right, call her, okay?”

Rania answered on the first ring over the sound of car horns and the radio. “Sam?”

“So, are you close to home?”

“I’m- Is everything alright?”

“Dean… Dean says it won’t be long. Contractions are five minutes apart and very strong.”

“That happens sometimes when the water breaking starts the labor. I’m… I’m kind of stuck.”

“What?” Sam asked in a flat voice.

“Apparently there's been a car accident and traffic has slowed down to a crawl. But don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll be home in time. I’m not that far.”

 _Don’t worry. Don’t worry?! How am I supposed to do that?_ Sam wanted to yell, but there was no way he was putting even more stress on Dean. So he smiled faintly. “Okay, meet you there.”

“Everything okay?” Dean asked, frowning.

“Yeah. She said the labor can go faster when it’s kick-started by the rupture of the membrane, but she’s not worried.”

“Easy for her to say… Oww, shit.”

Dean grabbed Sam’s thigh and dug his fingers into the muscle, groaning. Had five minutes gone by already? Of course not, Sam realized by looking at his watch. Barely four minutes had passed.

“Come on, Dean, breath through it.”

“Can’t. Hurts,” Dean hissed.

His head was bent down, his chin touching his chest, and he was grimacing with pain, dark red spots on his cheeks.

Sam counted the seconds before Dean began to relax. It lasted for fifty-two counts, fifty-two interminable seconds. That was a long contraction.

“No way,” Dean’s hand was trembling slightly, still gripping Sam’s leg, and he was shaking his head vigorously from left to right. “No way after everything that's happened m’gonna give birth in the freaking car, you understand me?”

“Yeah.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay.”

“I can’t do this, Sam, you get that? I… not after…”

“Dean. We’ll make it in time. Trust me.”

::: :::

They did make it to Rania’s in time, Dean groaning, then whimpering, then crying harshly through the contractions. Sam was so relieved to see the doctor’s house he could’ve cried.

“Where’s her car?” Dean asked.

He was slumped against the passenger door, breathing quickly, his face covered in sweat. 

“I… Damn it, she said she was stuck in traffic, but I thought she-“

“Wha?”

“She was-“

“Take me inside,” Dean cut him off impatiently. “I don’t care if she’s here or not. Fuck, Sam, just take me inside.”

“Yeah. Wait here.”

Sam got out of the car, oblivious to Dean’s protests, and dialed Rania’s cell number again.

“Sam?”

“Where are you?”

“Half an hour away, but things seem to be moving a little faster.”

Rania’s tone had lost his previous professionalism and assurance.

“Well, we’re here and Dean’s contractions are three minutes apart. He's in a lot of pain. I've got to get him inside.”

“Damn it! Okay. Listen to me…”

She told him where her set of spare keys were hidden – not very original for someone familiar with the hunter’s world, under a rock near the veranda - and gave him the code to her security system. Sam opened the door and unarmed the alarm with a sigh of relief.

“Gotta go, call you back,” he snapped when he saw that Dean was trying to get out of the car by himself.

“Dean, wait!”

Dean made it exactly two steps before he stopped and bent in half.

“You stubborn idiot,” Sam muttered, joining him and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Shit,” Dean panted. “Shit, Sam, she’s coming. I won’t make it inside.”

“’course you will, come on!”

“I can’t,” Dean repeated, holding on to Sam for dear life.

“Is this one over?”

“Jesus, it hurts.”

“Dean! Focus.”

Dean blinked at Sam like he'd just woken up from a dream, then nodded slowly.

They made it to Rania’s medical room in ten minutes, with Dean half carried by Sam for the most of it. He was getting quiet between the contractions, letting Sam drag him along without any protest or smart remarks. The way his face literally lit up with relief when Sam helped him sit on the bed made Sam's heart clench at the sight. 

“Wanna lie down now?”

“’Nother one coming. Wait.” Dean murmured, grabbing the edge of the mattress with both hands and moaning through the beginning of the contraction. Sam took the opportunity to take Dean’s shoes off and to raise the bed to a 70 degree angle. 

Dean’s moans shifted to more vocal groans. He kept his head down. His grey tee-shirt was damp with sweat and clinging to his skin, molding his taut belly while Dean tried to take short breaths through the pain. When it was over, he collapsed on the bed on his side, his legs still hanging over the side of the mattress.

“Help me,” he rasped.

“Yeah, here we go.”

Sam lifted both of Dean’s legs and turned him on his back. The towel inside his jeans wasn’t absorbing the amniotic fluid and had stained the fabric of his jeans all the way down to the inside of his thigh.

“Sam, she’s close,” Dean said. “Fuck, there's so much pressure down there.”

Sam tried to think rationally about the next step, but it was hard while watching Dean suffer through this, hard to see the fear in his eyes and the helplessness written all over his face. He wasn’t yelling about being so God damn unlucky as to have his doctor stuck in traffic, wasn’t snapping at Sam to freaking do something. He was just lying there, his face a pasty white, his hands gripping the white sheets.

Sam took out his cell and called Rania back. It didn’t even ring this time before she answered.

“How are things going?” She asked at the same time as Sam said, “How far are you?”

“Still moving slowly. Christ, I’m so sorry Sam. I never thought it-“

“Okay, tell me what to do,” Sam cut across her, walking away from the bed. “He says he’s close. He's starting to feel some pressure.”

“Sam!” Dean called in a distressed voice.

Sam took a quick look at his brother who was instinctively trying to curl himself into the smallest ball he could manage. 

“You’re okay, Dean. Breath through it,” he said in a voice full of a confidence he was far from feeling.

 _Focus_ , he told himself, trying, and failing, to ignore the agonized moan escaping Dean’s throat. 

“Tell me what to do,” he repeated to Rania. “I don’t think you’re gonna make it in time.”

Rania got the message and switched immediately to her professional mode, telling him what he needed to get and in which drawer or closet to find it. Sam canted the phone between his ear and shoulder and grabbed everything, putting it on the small medical cart Rania had used so often before.

“You have to check him, Sam,” was what Rania told him next.

“Check him. Okay. What am I looking for?”

“Get him in a gynecological position and I’ll tell you then.”

“Got it. I’m putting you on speaker so…” Sam lowered his voice, although Dean was so lost in his pain he doubted he would pay any attention even if Sam was yelling. “Don’t say anything that could make him panic, okay?”

“Alright.”

Pushing the cart next to the bed, Sam put his phone on it and turned back to Dean. The contraction was over and he was catching his breath, all the muscles of his body still rigid.

“Dean, we have to get those jeans off, okay?”

“Is Rania coming? Is she close?” Dean croaked.

“She’ll be here soon and I’ll help you until then, okay? Trust me, Dean.” 

Sam was impressed by his own calm despite the fact that his mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions, shifting and swirling, making him feel dizzy. Driven by his determination to help Dean, to support him, Sam was able to separate himself from everything else.

There was no way Angelia’s birth would be an echo of Dean’s chaotic pregnancy. No way Dean would suffer through another trauma.

 _You can do it, Sam_ , he thought, clenching his jaw.

“Come on,” he said, tugging at Dean’s jeans softly. “Can you lift your hips a little?”

Dean nodded, groaning as Sam lowered the soiled pants and pulled them off, uncovering Dean’s thighs which were sticky with clear fluid and rivulets of blood.

“I have to check you. We’ll wait until the next contraction, okay.”

Dean was shivering so badly his teeth were chattering. Sam grabbed a blanket from under the bed and covered him with it, taking his time to brush his fingers through Dean’s wet bangs.   
“Everything will be alright, you hear me?”

“M’fucking scared,” Dean murmured, avoiding Sam’s eyes. “What if she’s not okay and Rania’s not here?”

“She’ll be okay. She’s an amazing human being and she hasn't even been born yet.”

“She is, right?” Dean tried to smile but it turned into a grimace.

“Another one?”

“Yeah.”

Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and let him crush his fingers, coaching him through the pain. Dean’s legs were jerking and kicking under the blanket and he kept moaning louder and louder, a fresh film of sweat covering his face.

“Sam?” Rania remote voice called from the cellphone.

“Wait,” he told her, then focused back on Dean.

The contraction was bad and lasted longer than the last. When it was finally over, Dean kept on moaning, letting go of Sam’s hand to clutch at the sheets instead.

“Okay,” he nodded weakly.

Sam didn’t bother with the stirrups despite what Rania had told him. He pulled the blanket down and helped Dean to pull his legs up.

“Can you keep this position?”

“Yeah, but do it quick.”

“Rania? What am I supposed to look for?”

“The birth canal opening.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you see?”

“There's a little blood and amniotic fluid dripping.”

“It’s not enlarging? You don’t see anything trying to push through?”

“No.”

Sam kept a clinical perception. Dean was still panting, his thighs were trembling, but he was holding his own, not even commenting on the fact that Sam was up close and personal with this part of his anatomy he had preferred to hide.

“That’s good. She’s not crowning yet. You guys hold on. It’s moving faster now.”

“She’s coming, I know it,” Dean replied in a more forceful voice.

“I know, Dean. Don’t worry. You’ll be okay,” Rania said. “Sam?”

“Yeah?” 

“Keep me on the phone, alright?”

“Okay.”

Sam slid a dry towel under Dean’s hips and used another one to clean his thighs a little. He stopped as soon as the first sign of the next contraction came in the form of Dean suddenly closing his eyes, his face blushing a deep shade of red. 

Dean’s legs dropped to the side and he sat abruptly. “Damn.” He muttered.

“Come on, you can do it.”

“JESUS,” Dean yelled, locking his body forward.

“Breathe, Dean.”

Sam moved from the foot of the bed to try to sooth Dean’s pain by rubbing the small of his back. 

“Hurts, fuck, hurts so damn much,” Dean panted. “Don’t… don’t touch me.”

“Sorry.”

“Okay, it’s… almost… No, another one, that can’t be good, it's too fast, Sam!”

“I know. She’s in a hurry. I’m here. Not leaving you.”

Dean was bent over his belly, both of his hands pressing flat on the mattress. He wasn’t breathing through the pain anymore, not at this point, and Sam didn’t even try to tell him to do so. He knew too well that, at this point, it wouldn’t help. Dean vocalized his pain through groans and moans that escaped his clenched jaw. 

Sam turned to the medical cart and looked at the instruments lying there: surgical scissors and clamps, gloves, towels, forceps, and a pumping bulb. Had he forgotten anything? Even with Rania talking him through it, he figured all he could do was help the baby get out once Dean started pushing.

Dean barely had time to take a deep breath and curse a couple of time before his head snapped up and he grabbed Sam’s shirt. “It’s starting again. It never stops, Sam, it’s…”

“What’s going on?” Rania practically screamed over the phone. She'd probably said it before but hadn't been able to get their attention.

“There's no time between the contractions. They just fade and start again.”

“She’s down there, I can feel it,” Dean cried. “Where the hell are you, Rania!”

There was the noise of a horn too loud to be coming from anywhere other than Rania’s car. She cursed so harshly it made Sam blush, then started mumbling about everybody keeping calm.

“What’s going on?”

“Can’t talk right now, driving on the shoulder of the road.”

“Hey, don’t do anything dangerous!” Sam said, and Dean had it in him to smile in a way that told how awesomely badass he thought Rania was.

The smile only lasted for a second, though, because one contraction had just faded and another was starting already, taking its hold on Dean so fast his eyes rolled up in their sockets and he gave the impression he was going to faint. Sam bent over him to hold him through it, but Dean pushed him away weakly, shivering violently under Sam’s hands. 

“Don’t. Hurts too much when you touch me,” he rasped, then he screamed. A loud, harsh scream that contorted his face. He was still sitting, but he had arched his neck, exposing his throat, yelling at the ceiling and trembling from the pain. When he had to stop to take a breath, it was like he was trying to swallow air. Sam ran to wet a towel in the bathroom sink with very cold water. He was gone for no more than three seconds, but when he came back, Dean’s head was lolling on the side, his face drained of all its blood.

Sam pressed the cloth against his neck then rubbed it over his face.

“Dean, you with me?”

Dean groaned slowly opened his eyes. “Uh-huh,” he murmured. “Sam, fuck, you gotta look down there. I need to push.”

“Already?”

“Oh. Damn it, there it goes again and I need to push.”

“Hold on.”

“I can’t!” Dean protested, then he was gone, lost in the pain of the contraction, bending his legs and parting them.

“Dean, I’m not even ten minutes away,” Rania called. “Do you think you can wait?”

“You think I have… _ungh_ … any control over it?” Dean moaned, his face getting redder by the second and his body bracing itself, ready to push the baby out. “Sam, I can’t stop this!” He cried, then started pushing.

Sam uncovered Dean's legs and took a quick look between them, knowing immediately, by the way the skin around the birth canal was stretched taut, that Dean wouldn’t be able to hold anything back. The opening was already widening and, suddenly…

“Dean, she’s coming,” he declared in shock.

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“Oh, god. Let me… let me fix the stirrups.”

“Fuck the stirrups,” Dean cut him off, panting harshly. “It's better in this position anyway. Now get to work and help your daughter be born, damn it!”

Rania said something that Sam couldn’t hear, the poor reception of her cellphone cutting off the words. Sam didn’t think anything of it. Ten minutes, she’d said. She’d be here before Angelia was born.

“Sam, gotta push,” Dean announced, pressing his palms on the mattress and bending forward.

Sam took a pair of latex gloves off the cart but didn’t even try to slide his fingers in the first one when he felt how small the opening was. Of course. His hands were gigantic compare to Rania’s. He quickly washed his hands with some Purell, grabbed a pile of clean towels and increased the intensity of the light over the bed to its maximum.

“Saaaam,” Dean groaned, still pushing.

Sam sated himself on the bed between Dean’s legs. His brother pushing in this sitting position was far from ideal, but if his brother felt better that way, Sam would find a way to work with it.

The next push was so intense Dean’s hips lifted off the bed. His belly looked harder and smaller now that most off the amniotic fluid had been drained. Sam put one hand on Dean’s knee and tried to examine the birth opening as clinically as he could.

“Come on, Dean, I think I see something.”

“Fuuuuuuck,” Dean ended the push on this final, agonized rasp, and his body slumped backward, leaning heavily against the mattress. 

“It’s okay, you’re doing good,” Sam coached, cleaning the area softly with a towel. 

“Again,” Dean panted.

He started pushing silently, his whole body shaking with the force of it. Sam helped him brace his legs straight up, never turning his eyes away from the canal opening. The skin around it seemed so thin and stretched it was a miracle it hadn’t torn yet. Then, suddenly, something covered in blood and mucus appeared.

“She’s coming, Dean, I can see the head.”

Dean breathed out and Angelia’s head was pulled back a little, but not enough to disappear completely. 

“Have to…” Dean rasped, and started pushing again, the baby’s head pressing against the edge of the birth canal, and then…

Then Sam realized something was wrong. He took a towel and wiped the blood from the small portion of head pushing out. 

_Oh._

That wasn’t Angelia’s head.

Couldn’t be.

It was her butt.

“Oh god,” Sam said feeling a fresh wave of panic rising in him.

“Wha’?” Dean had stopped pushing. He looked wild, his hair plastered to his head, his eyes huge, pupils blown. “What’s going on? Sam!”

“That’s um… She turned back, Dean. It’s a breech.”

“Damn it, I knew it,” Dean cried, hitting the pillow a couple of times with his head.

“What do you mean?”

“When she moved this… ah… morning it was very intense and I… Can’t hold it, Sam, it burns, fuck, help me please!”

“Then push. Rania said breech babies could be born naturally. Come on, Dean, push.” Sam told him with confidence.

What else could he do? He tried to remember what the doctor had told them, that a frank breech, natural birth could be achieved without difficulty, that it was only a precaution that doctors choose to do a c-section almost automatically in these cases.

“SAAAM!” Dean screamed, pulling him back to the present as Angelia’s bottom was pushed out of the birth canal, stretching it obscenely. 

“She’s stuck, god, she’s stuck, do something!” Dean yelled, his voice hoarse from the screaming.

“Push, Dean.”

“Can’t, she’s stuck!”

“Only way to release her is to push. Come on.”

“Fuck you!” Dean cried, looking mad and terrified as tears of pain rolled involuntarily from his eyes.

“You can do this, Dean.”

Dean clenched his jaw and pushed, yelling and groaning through it. Sam saw the small thighs of the stretched legs peeking out of the birth canal and took a hold of the baby’s bottom, slippery and so tiny, gently pulling on the right leg and cutting out every distraction, the agony Dean was going through, the stress of doing this right, not letting anything bad happen to his unborn daughter.

When the first leg popped out of Dean’s body, his brother cried so loud he lost his voice for a second. Sam saw that the left leg was almost out and freed it as well, careful not to bend it the wrong way or pull too hard.

There it was. He was holding Angie’s lower body between his hands. They were halfway through and Rania couldn’t be very far away now.

“Is she out?” Dean asked between pants, sounding half hopeful, half terrified to hear the answer.

“We’re halfway through it. Come on, give me your hand.”

Dean didn’t question it, just held his hand out to Sam who put it between his legs so he could feel Angelia’s body.

“Oh. God,” Dean murmured. “Sam…”

“You’re doing great. We can do this, Dean. You and me. Okay?”

Dean nodded, leaning against the mattress. That’s when Sam heard Rania’s voice again. Maybe she had continued to talk while Dean was pushing, Sam couldn’t be sure. He was so focused on helping Dean it seemed unreal to have a third party interrupting.

“Make sure the umbilical cord isn’t completely compressed, Sam. You hear me?”

“Uh… Yeah. Okay, wait.”

Sam saw immediately what Rania was talking about. The cord was halfway out as well, but it was a little loose, not much, enough to see it pulsing, though. It wasn’t flattened completely. Sam remembered reading about the necessity to keep a good blood flow to the baby during a breech birth. Still, he would feel better when Angelia was all the way out.

“Ready to go again, Dean? He asked when he saw his brother’s belly hardening once more.

“Yeah.”

“Is the umbilical cord-“

“It’s alright,” Sam cut Rania off. “Are you close?”

“Not even five minutes away.”

Dean was pushing with all the strength he could muster, his hips lifting up the mattress. Sam kept his hold on Angelia’s body with one hand while he circled the birth opening with the fingers of the other to be sure the umbilical cord wasn’t crushed. When Dean started screaming again, one of Angie’s elbows appeared. 

“Good. Go on, don’t stop,” he said, pulling on the small arm which popped free, followed by the other, then both of the shoulders in a matter of seconds. 

“SAM!” Dean growled. 

“Yeah, go again.”

They didn’t need words to communicate, not in these situations. Dean took a long, shuddering breath and gave a strong push, both of his legs falling to the side. Sam kept circling the birth opening with his fingers. Angelia’s body had turned to the side on its own and the head was coming out, finally revealing the chin and the pouted mouth, then one ear, the nose, scrunched up and dripping with fluid. Dean’s whole body shook as he took a sharp breath and pushed one last time, releasing Angelia’s head, her eyes shut tight and an amazing amount of dark, thick hair sticking to her scalp in large, wet spikes.

“God, Dean, she’s here, it’s done,” Sam babbled, turning the small, still immobile body in his hands.

He held his daughter in the palm of one hand, trying to use the pumping bulb with the other, but he didn’t even have the time to do it. Angie’s arms opened wide and she let out a small cough, spitting amniotic fluid and secretions. Her nostrils quivered as she swallowed her first gulp of air before starting to cry in earnest, the same fragile wail that had turned Sam’s world upside down a little more than a year before. 

“She okay? Lemme see!” Dean croaked.

“She’s okay, she’s gorgeous,” Sam laughed nervously, raising his still crying daughter over Dean’s belly, both of his hands supporting her tiny body.

Dean smiled widely, collapsing back on the bed. At that precise moment, they heard running footsteps and the door of the room burst open, revealing a breathless and panicked Rania, her hair floating around her face like a halo. She froze on the doorstep when she saw Sam holding Angelia, letting out a tiny, surprised “oh”, and for a second the three of them stayed silent as Angelia’s cries filled the room.

“Dude, you re-enacting the Lion King or what?” Dean asked smugly.

“Shut up,” Sam smiled.

“Thank god,” Rania breathed and the moment was gone.

For the next couple of minutes, everything was kind of chaotic. Rania babbled apologies and stepped in, taking Angelia from Sam and cleaning her vigorously, then using the aspirator in her nose and mouth. Sam gave her space and started to shake now that the stress was starting to fade. He pushed his hair away from his face, finding it completely wet with sweat. “She’s so gorgeous,” he repeated. “Dean, she’s so different from Sue.”

Dean was still panting and sweating, but all in all, he looked good for a man who’d just given birth, a breech birth no less, without any pain medication. “She is?” 

He couldn’t see much because Rania had put Angelia back on the bed to take care of her. Sam took the opportunity to get close to Dean and wipe his face once again with a towel. Then he kissed him on the mouth, a long kiss, to which Dean responded in earnest. 

“You did it,” Dean said when Sam pulled back. “You were great.”

“Come on. I barely helped,” Sam murmured, brushing Dean’s damp bangs away from his forehead.

“What time s’it?”

Sam looked at his watch. “Five thirty-two.”  
“Well, that was quick. We were still home at three o’clock.” Dean laughed.

“I’ll cut the cord myself because it’s very short,” Rania told them.

“Right.”

Sam didn’t mind. He had been the one to help his daughter be born. He could hear her wailing softly. Dean was there with him and smiling. He didn’t need anything more.

“You want to hold her, Dean?” Rania asked shortly thereafter.

“Hell yeah.”

Rania raised Dean’s shirt and settled the baby on his chest, covering her with a thick towel. Angelia’s eyes were wide open and she gave the impression she was looking straight at her father. Her cries stopped as soon as she was in contact with Dean’s skin. Her hair was drying and sticking up on her head. It was a dark shade of brown.

“Hey, baby,” Dean murmured, rubbing her back softly.

Angelia blinked.

“Would you look at her, Sam. She seems so serious and calm.”

“Yeah, she does,” Sam whispered, then gently kissed the tuft of hair. 

“Her face is all round. Sumiko was tinier, wasn’t she?”

“I don’t know, but yeah, her face is a different shape. We’ll see if she really is bigger when Rania weights her.”

“You are amazing,” Dean told Angie, wrapping both of his arms around her.

Sam bent down to murmur in his ear. “Feel anything um… special?”

Dean shook his head quickly.

“Dean, I’m going to get you on a IV line with some medication to prevent the curse’s after effects, Rania announced. “I don’t wanna wait. I’ll examine Angelia right after, but so far, so good.”

“She turned back into breach position, this morning Dean thinks.”

Rania smiled quickly at them, pulling some equipment from the drawers of the cart. “It’s almost a good thing she did. The umbilical cord was short, as I was saying, and from where the placenta was located, it could have wrapped around her neck if her head had been first.”

“Holy shit,” Dean mumbled, an expression of awe lighting his eyes. “You did it, baby,” he added in an almost inaudible voice.

They were both so absorbed in admiring their newborn neither of them paid much attention to Rania’s actions, but somehow, less than five minutes later, Dean had an intravenous line installed in the crook of his left arm with two different bags attached to it. Rania had given him a dose of morphine as well and Dean barely felt it when the contractions started again, a sign that the placenta was ready to be expulsed. Sam left him in Rania's and took Angelia in his arms, wrapping her in another layer of cloth. She was snuffling and pouting, but kept calm, her eyes still open, two dark marbles just as Sumiko’s had been. 

Would she become the little girl of his vision, or had that child been only a projection of Sam’s thoughts and memories. 

Her skin was a tad darker than Sumiko’s, but since their eldest had Dean’s completion, that wasn’t surprising. Her eyebrows were not as dark as her hair, but a light brown, and her ears were tiny and perfectly flat against her skull. As for the rest, they’d have to wait for the swelling to subside to try and see some resemblance.

When the placenta was out, Rania made Dean comfortable, cleaning the area of the birth canal and putting clean towels under him. He was already looking drowsy and goofy, riding the endorphin high of the end of the delivery and the morphine. When the doctor had finished, she took Angelia out of Sam’s arms and put her on the exam table. 

“Sam?” Dean asked.

“Yeah.”

“Can you get me another blanket, m’freezing?”

Sam was more than happy to cover Dean with another layer and make sure he was comfortable. For a moment, they both watched Rania doing the Apgar test on Angelia who had begun to cry again, but softly, as if her heart wasn’t really into it.

“You think she’ll set Rania’s hair on fire when she’s had enough?” Dean asked. Sam let out a nervous laugh because even if it was only a joke, there was a serious question hiding in it.

Now that she was born, how would Angelia’s powers manifest, if they manifested at all?

There was nothing to do except wait for the answer.

Angelia was seven pounds one ounce, and she had two centimeters over Sumiko when she’d been born. Her Apgar was perfect and her hips, as well as her shoulders, hadn’t suffered from the breech birth, which sometimes happened.

Her legs had a tendency to stretch upward, but that was normal since she had remained so long in the breech position. They would settle naturally.

Besides this, Angelia showed all the signs of a perfectly healthy baby. Sam had to go get the bag from the car so they could put her in diapers and pj’s. The pajamas were new of a light blue, but the hat had been the one Sumiko wore right after she’d been born. Sam swaddled Angelia, easily remembering how they had done it with her older sister, and this thought filled him with a combination of nostalgia and wonder. It seemed like only yesterday, when he had dressed Sue for the first time. She would look giant compared to Angelia, but she was still barely a toddler. 

“You cryin’?” Dean slurred while Rania took his blood pressure once more.

Sam sniffed and tried to compose himself. 

“Bring her here.”

“Right.”

Rania was done with Dean. She placed a pillow behind him so that he could hold Angie more comfortably. As soon as Sam put her in his shaking arms, she sighed and closed her eyes.

“Would you look at that,” Rania murmured. “You guys did a great job, but you gotta promise me something.”

“What?” Sam asked, concerned by how serious Rania sounded.

“Please, _please_ make sure you get rid of the curse. We’ve been incredibly lucky so far. Let’s not push it.”

“I promise I’ll take care of it,” Sam answered just as seriously.

They now had two daughters, and yeah, they had been lucky, if luck could be translated into not dying a couple of times for Dean’s part, and not having their baby taken by a couple of psychotic sisters.

“Sam?” Dean asked, looking at him with half-closed, glassy eyes. “Can you check the passenger seat of the car? I think I might have gotten it wet with the amniotic fluid.”

This was so Dean-like Sam could only think of one answer.

“I love you,” he said simply.

A little more each day, if that was possible.


	17. Chapter 17

_Portsmouth, August 31_

Even though Rania did everything she could to help Dean through the after-effects of the curse, he still had a rough evening and night, running a fever, aching everywhere, sweating profusely. Sam stayed with him while taking care of Angelia while Rania monitored them for most of the night. 

Sam had called Ellen after the delivery. They had decided that she would come the next morning, bringing Sumiko to meet her little sister. Now, it was almost six in the morning and Angelia was drinking her third bottle of milk already, swallowing one ounce and burping like a pro in the middle of it. Dean had been asleep for the last couple of hours, conking out just after his last morphine shot. His fever had lowered a little and he looked almost peaceful despite the pallor of his face and the frown lines that came and went between his eyes.

Sam put Angelia on the examination table and changed her diapers. She kept her eyes open, but remained very calm, closing them as soon as she was wrapped up in her blanket. Sam kissed her forehead and put her in the incubator they were using as a crib, then exited the room silently, walking to the kitchen and fixing himself a pot of coffee. Rania had gone to bed an hour before with the express order to wake her up if anything happened.

Sam drank his coffee looking out the window where the sun was rising in a clear sky.

 _We did it_ , he thought, feeling peaceful and content.

He let his mind wander off and it brought him back to the conversation he'd had with Dean about moving away and starting a new life, this time as a couple instead of brothers.

He wondered if Dean had been serious. He had been close to term at the time, emotional. Dean was attached to the places he knew. They had spent so much time driving around the United States that the whole country had become a kind of home for Dean.

But they were Winchesters and they were more than well known amongst hunters. Wherever they went, they would risk being recognized and the fragile web of lies they would have to tell to explain the presence of their daughters would eventually catch up with them. Dean had talked about Canada, but there were some hunters there, albeit fewer of them, who would know about Sam and Dean Winchester.

Was Sam being paranoid? If so, he felt as though he had reason to be. The danger had come from a human this time, and humans, as Dean was fond of saying, were unpredictable, were capable of the best motives and the worst. Running to freaking Australia wouldn’t stop a demon or another supernatural creature, of course, but the risk of encountering some random hunter would be much less likely.

Sam heard a noise from the medical room and ran back to find Dean sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to stand up but wiggling his bottom, holding on to the IV drip for support.

“Dean?” Sam murmured. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Taking a piss. My bladder is about to burst.”

“Wait, I’ll get the uri-“

“No more freaking urinal. I’m fine. Just… help me a little.”

The determined look on Dean’s face discouraged Sam from insisting. His brother was barefoot, wearing a crumpled hospital gown that was tied up all wrong in the back. Sam sighed and slid a hand around his waist, holding him tight while Dean stood up, still holding the IV drip pole.

Dean was steadier than Sam would have thought and they made their way easily enough, although very slowly, to the bathroom.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. A little privacy maybe?”

“I’m not leaving you alone in the bathroom.”

“I’m not pissing while you watch me.”

“Dean, I spent most of yesterday afternoon with my head between your legs.”

“Geez, thanks for the reminder, Sam.”

They made a compromise. Sam helped Dean sit on the toilet and stepped outside until he was done. Of course, when Sam went back, Dean was already up, looking at his face in the mirror. “Dude, I look like a freaking zombie. You gotta help me wash a little and shave before Sue arrives.”

“Okay, if you sit on the bed.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but nodded. Helping him back to bed, Sam thought about the hours, then the days following Sumiko’s birth, and how different it was this time around, how Dean was more like himself, looked to be in such better shape. He was still smiling like an idiot when they were finished.

“Sam. You huh… you’re feeling okay?” Dean raised a suspicious eyebrow at him.

“Great.”

“She still sleeping?” Dean asked, pointing his chin toward the crib.

“Yeah.”

“Still hasn't done anything… special?”

“Nope. She’s a regular baby girl so far.”

“Can’t wait for Sue to meet her.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Despite his weakness and a low running fever, Dean managed to eat a little breakfast and to feed Angelia afterwards. The baby had only wined a little to signify she was hungry and drank without fussing once again. When she was done, Dean started nodding off with her comfortably canted in his arms, but was soon woken up by Rania when she took his vitals and changed his IV drip. When she proposed another round of morphine, he refused.

“M’not in pain. Wanna be awake when Sumiko comes. Besides, I was thinkin’ maybe I could go home today.”

Rania frowned. “It's a little early, maybe. I really would prefer to keep you another day, just to be sure…”

Dean exchanged a look with Sam who was putting Angelia in a fresh diaper. It was clear in his brother’s green eyes that he wouldn’t listen to the doctor, but Sam was ready to take him home if that was what Dean wanted. If that was what he _needed._

“I don’t mind watching him,” he said, shrugging.

Rania gave him an outraged look, like he’d just betrayed her somehow. When she spoke, her mouth was reduced to a thin white line. “I’m not letting you go before the fever is completely gone, Dean.”

“Which means that if it’s gone by this afternoon, then I can go?”

The young woman gave him an eyeroll. “Okay, then.”

“Nice. Maybe we should check it again right now just to-”

“Don’t push it, Dean.”

Dean didn’t push it.

::: :::

Sumiko and Ellen arrived a little after ten. Sam was waiting for them on the porch. Ellen had dressed Sue in her only dress, white cotton with a big red strawberry embroiled on the chest. She had tied a red ribbon in her tiny ponytail so that it made a fountain on the top of her head.

“Awww, look at you baby, you’re adorable.”

“Pwetttee!” Sue agreed as Sam took her into his arms. 

“How’s Dean?” Ellen asked.

“He’s… pretty good. Can’t believe he was pregnant yesterday when I look at him. The curse has done its job.

“And the baby?”

“She’s perfect, she’s… Come on, come see her.”

Ellen smiled. “You go on ahead so Sumiko can meet her little sister properly.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. And congratulations, Sam. Apparently there's nothing you can’t do.”

Sam blushed when Ellen kissed him. “I barely did anything. Angie just decided she was coming out, no matter what.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me, with the fathers she has?”

Ellen joined Rania in the kitchen while Sam took Sumiko to the room at the end of the hallway, explaining to her that she was about to meet her little sister, that she needed to be quiet because daddy and the new baby needed to rest. Sumiko wouldn’t be quiet, of course, but she did look like she was listening to Sam, really listening, her blond eyebrows furrowed and her eyes wide, fixed on Sam’s face.

“Let’s go,” Sam said, kissing her on the top of her head while opening the door.

Dean’s face lit up when he saw her. He was sitting in bed, Angelia cradled in his arms, looking comfortable and content despite the exhaustion. “Hey, there's my girl. Come on, Sue, come meet your little sis.”

Sumiko looked unsure for a moment, but when Sam got close to the bed and she saw the little bundle tucked in Dean’s arms, she lost it. 

“Ooooh,” she murmured looking at Sam like she wanted to say, “I’m not imagining this, am I?”

Then she stretched her arms toward Dean, showing an impressive strength as she was determined to escape Sam’s grip. She was babbling non-stop and Sam could only make out a word here and there: _daddy_ and _baby_ and _sister_ and _shshshsh_ , over and over again, cut off by enthusiastic bursts of laughter. Dean and Sam were laughing as well. Giving up, Sam sat her beside Dean, holding her still to try and keep her calm.

Angelia wasn’t sleeping. Her eyes were wide open and she was busy making small bubbles of saliva. The swelling of her face had started to subside and Dean was positive she took after Sam, although Sam couldn’t quite see it and was convinced Dean only said it to please him. Now, though, looking more closely, Sam could admit that Angie’s eyes were shaped like his, almost cat-like, and that her nose had the same pointy shape as his.

“Ooooh,” Sue repeated when she was settled next to Dean. She looked up at him and yelled, “baa-bee!” with a wide smile.

“Sue, meet Angie,” Dean said affectionately, shifting his arms so that the little girl could have a better look at her baby sister.

Sumiko stretched out one arm, but stopped a few centimeters away from touching Angelia. She was visibly awed. She looked at Dean again and made an exaggerated shushing sound, spitting saliva everywhere.

“Yes, we have to be quiet,” Dean agreed, kissing her on the cheek. 

“Sissserrr,” Sumiko slurred in a hushed voice.

“You’re so freaking clever, baby.”

Dean freed one of his arms to wrap it around Sumiko’s shoulders. She cooed and pressed herself against her father, saying _pretty_ and winking at him, still with both eyes.

“Can I take a picture?” Sam asked, his phone already in his hand.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Sam how are we going to explain this pic-“

“Don’t care. You were in the hospital. I took both the girls to visit you.”

Dean didn’t protest further and Sam took a snapshot. In it, Sumiko’s mouth was wide open and she was pointing at the camera. Dean had this lopsided smile that was so uniquely him, part of his personality as much as the spiky hair and the car. Angie’s face was barely visible, all wrapped up in her blanket and pressed against Dean. She wasn't wearing her hat and her hair was all that was sticking out of the bundle, dark and abundant.

“Perfect,” Sam said, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“Okay, let’s give daddy a break,” he added when he saw Sumiko wiggling and trying to stand up.

“Angelia needs a change,” Dean said, wrinkling his nose.

“No problem.”

With Sumiko canted on his hip, Sam asked Dean to put Angie in the crook of his free arm.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I can manage.”

Dean looked like he was going to protest, but finally gave in.

“SISSER!” Sumiko screamed when they were done.

She was suddenly brave enough to touch the baby, visibly impressed by the tuft of dark hair, and before Sam could do anything, she was grabbing a handful and pulling.

Angelia burst out crying. 

Sumiko pulled her hand back as if she’d been burned and started crying as well, scared by the reaction she’d just provoked.

“Here we go,” Dean said rolling his eyes, but he was smiling a little.

Sam could only imagine what the next few months would be like for them, and he smiled too in the middle of this wonderful chaos. 

::: :::

Ellen didn’t stay too long. Sumiko was very demanding, wanting to stay in bed with Dean or in Sam’s arms – wherever Angelia was. Sam and Dean were both exhausted by the time Ellen took her home.

Shortly after noon, though, Dean asked Rania to take his temperature and she admitted reluctantly that it was normal. Before letting him go though, she examined him thoroughly and did the same with Angelia. Then, she made a long series of recommendations and scheduled a home visit in two day’s time. Dean agreed to everything vehemently, looking as excited as if he’d spent months stuck in a hospital bed.

Although he was still fighting the after-effects of the curse, he seemed in much better shape, psychologically and physically, than right after Sumiko’s birth. Sam took all of Rania’s instructions very seriously and promised himself that he would take care of Dean, no matter how hard his brother fought him. He helped him into the car, even with all the grumbling, then went back for Angelia. She was sleeping peacefully. She didn't wake up, even when Sam struggled to adjust the belt of her seat tightly enough for her to be completely safe. So far, she had refused the pacifier, spitting it out forcefully, but that could change.

“Let’s go home,” Dean sighed, leaning back against the seat.

He had insisted on sitting next to the baby in the back seat.

“You sure you're okay?”

“Sam…”

“Seriously, Dean. I’m not kidding here.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but answered. “A little sore and freaking tired, but I’m okay. And I have no doubt you and Ellen will be all over my case for me to rest.”

“And you’ll listen to us.”

Dean cleared his throat and readjusted Angelia’s hat on her forehead. “I’ll try,” he said.

“Good enough. Okay, here we go.”

Dean fell asleep within ten minutes, one of his arms wrapped over the baby seat, the other hand resting on Angelia’s feet. 

“Love you, you stubborn idiot,” Sam thought, observing him in the rear view mirror.

::: :::

The first few days were a period of adjustment, especially for Sumiko. It wasn’t as much of a change as it had been when she herself had been a newborn, if you’d asked Sam. They were used to the family life now and, although Angelia followed her own routine, Sumiko still woke up at six, needed to eat three times a day, to play, to be bathed, to nap and to follow her usual habits. 

She was very fond of her little sister for the first few hours following her arrival, but she rapidly got tired of “ooooh”- ing next to her face when she realized that Angelia wasn't going to stand up and play with her. She began to shush exasperatedly each time Angie made a noise, like the baby was some kind of necessary nuisance they had to put up with.

It was funny to watch, really. Sam wasn’t worried. Sumiko was still so young. A baby herself, really. The bond between them would come eventually, given some time.

Dean accepted Sam's admonishment to stay in bed only until the day after they got home, around dinner. By then he'd had enough and he refused to take another meal in bed, said that he was bored and promised to let Sam get him settled on the couch for the evening if he was allowed out of the bedroom. Sumiko was excited to have her father out of bed and kept babbling at him, like they had so much to catch up on since Angelia’s birth. She didn’t even care about eating, but Dean did. Not much, but still. When Sam put a protein shake in front of him, he groaned and cursed but drank all of it, then smiled sarcastically at his brother. “Happy?”

“Yes.”

Ellen ruffled Dean’s hair and he blushed, but let her get away with it. She had been wonderful so far, making herself useful without overstepping, leaving Sam and Dean some space and running the house like it was no big deal to have a newborn to take care of and a toddler who was slowly turning into a little attention-needing monster.

The first evening they had arrived, Ellen had spent two hours cradling Angelia in the old rocking chair in the living room. Ellen had been very quiet. Sam had had no doubt she had been thinking about her own family, remembering when her husband was still alive and Jo still a baby, secure in her arms.

They were all a little emotional, Sam guessed. He remembered all too well Dean’s baby blues right after Sumiko’s birth so he watched him closely. Even if Dean looked tired, he seemed to be getting through the end of the curse far more easily than the first time. Still, Sam knew better than to let his guard down. Even though Dean had changed over the past two years, he was still so accustomed to hiding his emotions deep inside his mind. If Dean convinced himself that there was no reason for him to feel a little overwhelmed by their daughter’s birth and the hormones rushing out of his body, he would pretend and mostly believe he was completely alright. But he wouldn’t be. Not really.

As it turned out, Sam was right to stay vigilant. On the night of September third, he woke up suddenly to find himself alone in bed. Angelia’s crib was empty as well. This wasn’t a reason to worry in and of itself since Dean had started sharing the nightly feedings. Angelia was a very quiet baby and she barely groaned and whined to signify she was hungry or wet so maybe Dean had just been sleeping more lightly.

Still, Sam couldn’t shake off the sense of uneasiness he felt. It wasn’t like he had the impression something was seriously wrong, just this little voice telling him that Dean needed him.

It was one in the morning and the night was bright under the full moon. The small nightlight in the living room was the only one turned on. Sam was almost there when he heard some quiet whispers. He advanced silently, just until he could see Dean’s silhouette in the rocking chair. There was an empty bottle on the coffee table, a wrapped up dirty diaper on the floor. Angelia seemed asleep, or calm enough not to make any noise.

Dean’s head was bent toward her and he was softly running his fingers through the baby’s hair. 

He was speaking to her, apologizing, saying he was sorry, so fucking sorry for everything he’d put her through. 

His breath hitched. He was crying, or would be soon enough.

Sam heard some noise and saw Ellen coming out of her room, still half asleep. She frowned at him.

“I got it,” Sam articulated silently.

She nodded, smiled a little, and went back into the guest room.

Sam walked into the living room, startling Dean who immediately turned his head to hide his face, cleared his throat and groaned. “Dude, warn a guy.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean sniffed. “Yeah huh… She drank her milk like a pro and I was going to take her back upstairs in a few minutes.”

Sam nodded and sat on the couch next to the rocking chair. Dean’s chin was wobbling and he was biting his lips. Hard.

“Dean. You didn’t do anything wrong. You have to know that.”

Instead of going for denial, because he was probably too far gone to pretend, Dean just nodded harshly, still not looking at Sam.

Sam bent down and put a hand on his Angelia’s belly. “Look at her. She’s fine. She’s perfect. You were the one to get her through all that.”

“I…” Dean shook his head, smiling sadly just as tears were welling up in his eyes. “Fuck, Sam, stop it or I’mma lose it,” he mumbled uneasily.

Sam took Angie out of Dean’s arms. He didn’t protest, just let her go, trusting Sam instinctively, as always. Sam put Angelia in the baby swing. She snuffled and tried to suck at nothing, then she went back to sleep.

“This is… I have no reason for feeling so shitty,” Dean admitted right away when Sam walked back to the couch. 

“You have freaking good reasons, don’t be stupid.”

Dean winced and impatiently wiped the tears off his cheeks. “You’re right. She’s here, she’s perfect, and everything is good and I just…”

He shrugged.

There were no good answers there. Dean had been through so much during his pregnancy that having him break up three days after his second labor in less than two years - a labor he'd gone through without the reassurance of a doctor there to make sure everything was under control - was only normal. The pregnancy hormones were quickly being eliminated by his body and his brain chemistry had to adjust. That didn’t help either.

Sam thought Dean knew all of this, to some degree. He just needed Sam to be there for him, needed to let go from time to time, just like he was doing now.

There was one issue, though. One thing Sam couldn’t let his brother forget.

“Dean. You do know it, right? That none of what happened was your fault?”

Dean’s face hardened. “Well, it was me, Sam. It was me, there in that fucking basement. That day, when Isabelle came to me, I should’ve noticed something was off… And look at her,” he added in a broken voice, pointing toward the swing. “She’s a baby. She fits in the crook of my arm, and all those thing she had to do to save herself and…I never really listened, you know. All the clues she left and I couldn’t even figure out what she was trying to tell me-“

“Please, please stop this,” Sam cut him off, kneeling in front of the chair and grabbing Dean’s face with both hands, forcing him to look at him. “Because if you wanna play this game, alright, but I’m as responsible as you are. I didn’t understand what was going on either, I was blinded by the fear that Angie could hurt herself, could hurt you… And damn it, it took me two fucking weeks to find you, I was almost too late-“

“Sam, don’t-“ Dean was trying to escape Sam’s grip, but he wouldn’t let go. 

“Why? You’ve got the right to inflict this guilt trip on yourself, and I don’t?”

“It’s not like that!” Dean protested with anger, new tears brimming in his eyes.

“No, it’s not. It’s you, Dean. You’re the reason she’s here today.”

Dean let out a sarcastic laugh.

“I’m serious. She was able to use you, because you were strong enough for it all. You managed to keep her safe despite everything, and yeah, you were in that basement, but you came out of it, and she did as well, and I’m not sure I could’ve done it, I’m not sure anyone else other than you could have done it. You’re right, look at her. She is a newborn, she’s so small and vulnerable and innocent. Now. I don’t know when her powers will manifest, or how. Fuck, I don’t know if they’ll manifest at all, but everything she accomplished was because you were strong enough to let her do it.” 

Dean’s face had gradually softened as Sam was speaking. Tears were now flowing freely down his face and the sight broke Sam’s heart, even though he knew this was necessary. 

“Dean, it’s okay,” he murmured.

Dean shook his head and grabbed Sam’s wrists, not to take his hands off his face but to keep them there. “I’m a fucking girl,” he hiccupped. “Sorry about this.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Dean, you just gave birth. The curse has been hard on you. Give yourself a beak.”

“Hate feeling like this.”

“I know.”

Sam rose on his knees and kissed Dean’s wet lips. His brother answered immediately, pressing hard against Sam’s mouth, shoving his tongue forcefully between his lips and humming almost desperately. His hands had left Sam’s wrists to grab strands of hair. And this, this wasn’t about sex. This was Dean holding on to Sam for dear life, taking what he needed.

Sam gave everything he could. In the end, they were holding each other clumsily and Dean had calmed down, the only sign that he had been crying was a hiccupping sigh from time to time. He was the one who broke the embrace, shaking his upper body like he could get rid of the emotion overload that way.

“We goin' back to bed?” Sam asked simply.

Dean wiped at his swollen eyes one last time. “Yeah.”

“I’ll get Angelia.”

They climbed the stairs together, Dean staying close to Sam all the way, enough for their legs to brush.

::: :::

_Freeport, September 10_

It was the beginning of the afternoon and, for the first time since Angelia’s birth, Dean found himself alone with her. Sue had been crawling out of her skin all morning and Sam had decided to take her to the park to let some of that accumulated energy out. Ellen was up in New York where she was meeting Bobby to help him with a simple salt and burn case. Afterwards, they would both come back, but only for a day or two. Bobby had apparently found a spell that would get Dean free of his curse for good and, of course, he wanted to meet Angelia. Ellen would go back with him to Sioux Falls afterwards. She said she had imposed long enough. Dean and Sam had protest vehemently. Hell, Angelia’s arrival would have been so much harder to manage without her. Still, it was time for Dean and Sam to pick up their life, in whatever form it might take.

Angelia was sleeping in her swings in the living room while Dean folded laundry sitting next to her. He felt good, still a little tired, and way out of shape, but life settling in to a kind of rhythm. He was starting to get back to his good old self and, thank god, he wasn’t about to burst into tears at the slightest provocation anymore. Damn hormones. How women managed to live with them he didn’t have a clue, but he was way more sympathetic to them now.

Folding a pair of Sue’s pants, Dean smiled to himself, thinking about how his eldest was reacting to the arrival of her little sister. Sue had always been a loud, enthusiastic baby, and the sole point of attention for both her fathers. She had noticed the changes since Angelia had been born, even though Dean didn’t think she was jealous – still a little young for that. Anyhow, Sue needed the world to know she existed, that’s how Dean saw it, and if she had to scream over a crying baby to do so, she would. Not out of egocentrism or selfishness, Dean refused to believe that. Sumiko was just so alive, so desperate to enjoy and make the most of each minute that passed, that she had to make herself known.

Angelia started whining feebly. If Dean gave her enough time, she would probably go back to sleep on her own, but since they were alone, he gave in and took her in his arms, settling in the rocking chair.

Angelia blinked at him lazily with those eyes that were so much like Sam’s. She twisted in her blanket, yawning widely and ending it on another tiny whimper. 

“There you go, daddy’s here,” Dean murmured. As soon as he started talking, Angie stopped moving. Her eyelids got heavy, her eyes rolled back and her mouth went slack. Still not interested in the pacifier, she often calmed herself down on her own and Dean could count on the fingers of one hand the times she had cried more than five minutes since she'd been born.

“You’re so quiet, baby,” he said, rocking her gently. “You don’t have to be, ya’ know. Big brothers and sisters, they often act like they’re better than you, taking as much room as possible because they’re scared. They’re scared shitless there won't be enough space for them anymore. That’s all. You can cry your lungs out as often as you want to. Sue loves you, but she’s too young to really understand it yet, how deep that love is.”

Angelia snuffled and yawned again. Dean laughed silently. “Yeah, boring stuff. I’ll shut up now.”

There he was, bad-ass hunter Dean Winchester, talking to his eleven day old daughter in an empty house. He felt soothed by the slow rocking movement of the chair, the smell of his baby, the light weight of her in his arms.

He was scared too, shitless. He knew what was awaiting them when Bobby and Ellen came back from the hunt. Sam had spoken with Bobby about their plan to move away, asking for some advice, how to find the best fake passports and papers for them and the girls, where to settle, that kind of thing.

Soon, it would be too late to back out. Dean didn’t regret it. He would leave everything he had ever known gladly if it meant that the girls would be a little more secure, a little more hidden from the hunter's world. There was a lot of good in that world, people like Bobby and Ellen, and Pastor Jim – dead for more than five years, now, god - people courageous enough to give up their whole lives to hunt nasty, murderous creatures. But there was a lot of bad too. Hunting for bad reasons, from desperation or because the power of a weapon was their way of getting themselves off. Deals. Black magic. Revenge.

Revenge. _What would you think of me, dad? Dean would sometimes wonder. Are you ashamed and mad, would you punch me until I bleed like that time when I let Sammy run away on my watch? Your incestuous son, who never managed to live up to your expectations?_

_Well, you didn’t live up to mine either. And I guess… I guess in the end, we might have been able to find a way to yell through all those issues without killing each other._

Except John was dead. And despite how much he sometimes resented him, Dean still missed him each and every single day.

“Fuck the hunt and all its madness, Angie,” Dean rasped, patting his daughter’s bottom. “Saving people… Guess it’s time to save ourselves, as a family, what do you say?”

The girls would grow up in a normal environment, go to school, have a home, would call the giant man with the girly hair who Dean loved way too much _daddy_ , because it was true, and Sam deserved it, and that was something no one had the right to take away from him.

Angelia tensed briefly before relaxing again. 

“That’s it baby, go back to sleep, daddy’s got you. You don’t have to work so hard anymore, you leave it all to me.”

And because he was alone in the house, and feeling a little sentimental maybe, Dean sang to his daughter in a very soft voice. “ _Angie, Angie, when will those clouds all disappear? Angie, Angie, where will it lead us from here…”_

_Epilogue_

_Freeport, September 11_

The fire took almost immediately and Sam warmed his hands over it. Nights were getting colder. 

“Everything ready?” Dean asked, joining him to rub his hands over the pale flames.

“Yeah.”

They were on the beach, in a quiet corner that couldn’t be seen from the house where Bobby and Ellen were watching over their daughters, ready to get rid of the curse once and for all.

Sam felt like this was some kind of big milestone in their lives. He was a little melancholy, he guessed. Not that he wanted Dean to go through another pregnancy, not after everything. Still, he’d always remember this time in their lives as one of wonder despite everything that had gone wrong.

This time in their lives in which they were granted two daughters, thanks to a witch’s curse that had evolved in way no one could have predicted.

Sam took the bowl with the assortment of herbs. Soon, it would be over. For good.

He had an image in his mind of Dean destroying a motel bathroom after taking three positive pregnancy tests. It made him smile.

“Let’s get it over with,” Dean said, lying on his back on the blanket they had brought with them. 

He sounded calm and peaceful, maybe a little wistful too? Still, he was smiling.

“Need some blood.”

“Of course,” Dean grunted. “These spells always need some fucking blood.

He offered his hand to Sam who made a light cut into his palm. Dean winced, but didn’t pull away as Sam let the droplets of blood fall into the combination of herbs. He held the bowl over the fire and started the incantation, which he repeated three times until the herbs were smoking.

Then, he poured the mixture on Dean’s belly. It was hot, but not enough to burn him. Sam pronounced the second part of the incantation and they both watched as the herbs and blood started agglutinating together, forming the familiar patterns on Dean’s skin, the sigils that had once been carved on it and leaking blood.

Dean giggled suddenly, then slapped his hand over his mouth under Sam’s amused gaze. “What, it tickles, shut up,” he murmured.

When the patterns were well formed, Sam pronounced the last words of the spell and they suddenly sparked, turning into ash that rose from Dean’s stomach before disappearing into the night.

“That’s it,” Sam said.

“Done?”

“Done.”

Dean lowered his shirt and sat up, crossing his legs in front of him. “So, we’re sure the curse is gone for good?”

“According to Bobby, yeah.”

Still, Sam had the strong impression that Dean wouldn’t be too eager to bottom for him from then on. 

“We should go back inside,” Sam whispered, watching the dark waves crash on the shore.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed just as quietly, looking away as well. “Fuck, I’ll miss this place.”

“Me too. But hey, we’re not gone yet.”

“Well, eventually… And if you ask me, the sooner the better.”

There were so many things to think about. They'd had a long conversation with Bobby who thought Canada would do the trick, as long as they didn’t settle in a town near the border. Sam had suggested British Columbia, mostly because it was the only province in Canada he had ever visited. He'd gone there on a skiing trip with Jessica and friends from Stanford, so many years ago it seemed.

Moving to Europe would have been much more complicated, and expensive. Canada had the advantage of being close enough to the U.S. to share a lot of their laws. Obtaining good quality fake papers for them and the girls would be easier.

They would have to give up their surname. Sam thought Dean would be more resistant to this particular issue, but he had barely shrugged. “Hey, we'll still be Winchesters, even if we’re the only ones to know. Maybe we should take mom’s maiden name, Campbell. It’s common enough.”

Sam had agreed. Whatever shape or form their family took, it would still be them. They had spent their life using false names and identities, after all. It didn’t change who they were at the end of the day.

“You think we can trust this Frank guy Bobby is asking to help with the papers?” Dean asked.

“He won’t know more than he needs too. And apparently he’s so deep inside his own paranoia he couldn't care less about two random guys and their daughters.”

Dean sighed, still looking far away at the ocean. 

“Leaving everything behind for good. There's no turning back, Sammy.”

“I know.”

“I mean, I’m not stupid enough to think we’ll never face anything supernatural ever again, but…” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind never hearing another rumor about a haunting ever again.”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh, hearing Dean say those words so casually. He moved on the blanket until he was sitting close enough to feel his brother’s body against his own. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Whatever happened to us.” Sam murmured, wrapping his arm around Dean’s shoulder, pleased when his brother let him get away with it. “Here we are, ready to start a new life with no hunting whatsoever, fathers of two little girls and it was all your idea, even the part about being a gay couple.”

Dean frowned. “So what?”

“It was hard, in the beginning. Remember our first time?”

“I remember I came in my pants like a freaking teenager,” Dean tried to joke.

Yeah, he had. Their first time… Three months after Dean had been saved from hell. What Sam remembered was the desperation. He’d been the one to initiate it, to break the sexual tension that had been building steadily between them. He’d pressed Dean against the wall of some anonymous motel room and had yelled, “Tell me you don’t want this! Tell me, Dean!”

Dean had stopped fighting him and had looked into his eyes, so much emotion passing through them, like he had hoped Sam would understand because he couldn’t, just couldn’t say out loud what he had been feeling, not yet.

They had rutted against each other, kissed and bit and moaned and groaned. Afterwards, Dean had locked himself in the bathroom, had turned the shower on, and cried. Sam had waited for him to get out, sitting on the floor with his back against the door, and had cried too.

How different things were now. How much better.

“I don’t regret anything,” he murmured, pressing a kiss on Dean’s temple.

“I don’t either, you big girl,” Dean replied.

He turned toward Sam and ran his fingers through his hair, kissing him on the mouth until they were both out of breath.

“We really should get back inside,” he rasped.

“Yeah.”

But neither of them moved. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore was soothing, like some violent lullaby.

“I can’t picture it, you know?” Dean said after long and peaceful minutes of silence.

“What?”

“Our future. I mean… Where will we be in say… seven years from now.”

“We’ll be together with the girls,” Sam answered easily. 

“And that’s enough for me.”

It really was.

::: :::

_Seven years later_

Nora Jenkins was in her office, sorting out some papers like she did each day before going home. The school was empty and quiet, although less than ten minutes ago, it had been resonating with the joyful chaos of a couple hundred kids invading the corridors, eager to go home. She had been a secretary at this elementary school for more than ten years and she never tired of being surrounded by children. She didn’t have any of her own, was still waiting for the right man even though she was well into her thirties.

Still, in the meantime, she enjoyed her job.

The door of her office was open and, once every minute or so, she would raise her eyes to look at the two girls sitting on plastic chair just outside the corridor, facing her.  
The principal, Miss Thompson, was in the library, meeting some guy from the parent’s council. Nora had no doubt that the atmosphere would change as soon as she got here. 

The girls were speaking quietly amongst themselves, one blond head cocked toward a darker one. This situation had become a common occurrence basically since Sue had started school, but it had worsened when her sister had arrived, one year later.

Nora smiled despite herself. Those two had a way of getting into trouble like no one else. Still, she was very fond of them and could admit to herself that they were favorites of hers. Whenever she could save them from the principal’s office, she would. This time, though, the transgression had happened during lunchtime, near an opened window, and Miss Thompson had been right there to witness it all. 

The old cow had always been prejudiced against the Campbell girls, all the teachers knew it. Each time she mentioned their fathers’ “alternative lifestyle” her mouth would kirk in a disapproving grimace.

Luckily, this was Thompson’s last year here, since she was retiring at the end of the school year. Nora smiled to herself, remembering Mr. Campbell's – Dean's- victory fist when she’d told him. “You know, I’m going to celebrate that day, Nora,” he had told her, smiling that incredibly sexy smile of his. 

“You and me both,” she had answered, blushing a little.

She always blushed when Dean Campbell was around. Lily, the librarian, was way less subtle. “He’s got an ass to kill for. And his husband, gosh, he has those gigantic hands… Just imagine a threesome with them.”

Yeah, Lily was known to speak her mind.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Sue was saying a little louder. 

“I know, but still. You should have let it go,” Angie answered quietly, looking straight into her sister’s eyes with this serious expression she sometimes had. “Papa is going to ground us.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll tell him. You don’t deserve to be punished.”

Sue’s tone was filled with emotion. God, that girl didn’t do anything by halves.

Those sisters were so different from each other, and still so close. The deep bond between them could be felt the first time you met them, like there was more to them than just the normal sibling relationship. Nora had a sister, two years younger than her, and they’d never been close. Sometimes, looking at Sue and Angie, she wished things had been different.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sue was asking, frowning at Angie.

“Because I didn’t care.”

“She was mean.”

“You didn’t have to do anything. I can defend myself.”

“I’m your big sister. I have to protect you.”

“You’re only one year older,” Angie snapped, looking annoyed.

“One year and two months.”

Yes, Sue was the eldest, but looking at them, you would have thought it was the opposite. They were approximately the same height –Sumiko was of a delicate shape, thin, with a small, oval-shaped face. Angie’s face was rounder and, even if she was as thin as Sumiko, it was evident that she would outgrow her eventually. 

Sumiko had blond, straight hair, as soft and thin as a baby’s, where Angie’s dark strands were thicker, curling softly around her face. They would get off the bus every morning wearing the school uniform, clean and with their hair done. Sue usually wore hers in a braid most. Her hair was long and the braid’s tail brushed against the middle of her back. Angie kept hers shorter, just below the ears, and she always wore a hair clip to keep it away from her forehead.

Still, at the end of each day, Angie would look exactly the same as in the morning where Sue gave the impression she’d been fighting some kind of kid’s war. Like right now, strands of hair had escaped from her braid and one long piece was falling right in her face. Her white tights were stained with dirt and grass at the knees. She had some kind of half hand print on her jumper in bright yellow paint and a scratch on her left cheek that hadn't been there this morning. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried, Sue couldn’t stay clean and tidy.

Long footsteps resonated in the hallway and, by the sound of them, Nora knew that this time it was Sam Campbell coming to meet the principal and get the girls. She saw both of them tense a bit just as their father’s large frame appeared in the doorway of Nora’s office.

“Hey,” he said, a little short of breath.

Professor Campbell was a sweet looking, very tall man in his mid-thirties with semi-long brown hair and soft eyes behind light framed glasses. He always wore the same, almost cliché outfit of a university teacher - well pressed pants and a sweater vest under a worn out coat, carrying a briefcase with him. His husband, on the other hand, usually wore well-worn jeans and a tee-shirt with a button-up flannel shirt over it, sometimes with trails of sawdust all over him, even in his hair. He was a carpenter, and a good one according to Olivia Benton, the third grade teacher for whom he had made a dresser last year.

“Hi, Professor Campbell.”

“Is she here?” Sam Campbell murmured, pointing at the closed door of the principal’s office.

“Not yet. She’s with a parent in the library.”

He rolled his eyes comically. “Great. We’ll wait I guess.”

“I’m sorry. Really, Sue wasn't the only child at fault.”

“I figured as much. Not her style to do something like this without provocation. Anyway, I’m just glad Dean couldn’t come.” He smiled a little awkwardly.

They both knew why he was saying that. Last year, Sue had accidentally triggered the school’s fire alarm, causing a general panic and, as a punishment, Principal Thompson had told her that she wouldn’t be part of the Christmas play. The next morning, Dean Campbell had barged into Thompson’s office, looking so mad it was actually a little frightening. Nora had heard him tell Thompson in a cold, well controlled tone, that his daughter would be part of the play and that she really didn’t want to see what would happen if she stuck to her decision. When he had exited the office, the old woman’s face was as white as a sheet and her hands were shaking.

“Hey, Nora,” he’d said casually, taking a Christmas sugar cookie from a plate she'd left on her desk. “Have a nice day.”

Then he'd left and Nora had made sure to tell everyone how he’d shut the old cow’s trap. Still, she knew what his husband was afraid of, that someday, he would go too far and really lose his temper. Sam had been the one to deal with Thompson ever since. “Listen, this is a good school, the teachers are great and I’d hate to have to get the girls transferred just because of one person. I know they’re happy here. “

Nora had reassured him that the teachers were used to the principal’s attitude and, most of the time, they tried to shield the girls from her, as well as other kids who had the misfortune to displease her in some way. The elementary school was the only one in their little town. Transferring the girls would mean a much longer bus ride and other complications.

“There's one month left to the school year,” Nora said to Sam Campbell, smiling reassuringly. 

“Thank god for small favors,” he answered.

Then he turned back to face his daughters.

“It wasn’t Angie’s fault,” Sue immediately said.

“Okay, calm down, I haven’t said anything yet,” the tall man said soothingly, kneeling in front of them.

“But it wasn’t, papa.”

“You wouldn’t have done anything if she hadn't called me a freak,” Angie interrupted in a calm, reasonable voice.

“Bethany called you a freak?” Sam asked, and there was something deeply hurt in his tone.

“I don’t care. I was just…”

“Talking to yourself like you always do,” Sue mumbled.

“So what?”

“It makes you look weird. I wish you’d stop.”

Angie didn’t say anything but gave her older sister a thoughtful look.

“Still, that isn’t a reason to do what you did, Sue,” their father cut in calmly.

“But Bethany _is_ a bitch,” Sue protested, and Nora repressed a laugh.

“What did I said about the “b” word?” Sam asked more severely.

“Daddy says it all the time!”

There was a long sigh from Sam. “Dean is an adult. And I already told you, Sumiko Campbell. Just because daddy says something doesn't make it right for you to do the same. Anyway, what happened after? You pushed her?”

“I barely touched her!” Sumiko protested, tears filling her eyes. “She fell on purpose, just to get me in trouble.”

“It’s true, papa,” Angie said. “She knew Miss Thompson was looking through the window and she did it on purpose.”

“Okay, okay, both of you calm down.”

The man slowly unraveled his body as he stood up and brushed his hair away from his face. He turned back to Nora. “Listen, I don’t feel like wasting my time. Just… tell _her_ I had an appointment, and to call me at home.”

“Perfect,” Nora said, thinking with delight how pissed Thompson would be, coming back and finding the girls gone.

“Thanks.”

Sam Campbell stretched out both of his arms, holding his hands open. “Come on, girls.”

Sue and Angie exchanged an excited look and stood up, Sue tip toeing like she was doing her own little happy dance and grabbing Sam’s left hand while Angie walked more slowly, but still couldn’t repress a lopsided smile.

Nora watched them leave and then got back to her work although she couldn’t help but hear their conversation as they walked away.

“Doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences,” Sam was saying.

“You can punish me, but Angie didn’t-“

“I know.”

“I should be punished too. She’s right, I was talking to myself.”

“Angie, speaking to yourself doesn’t give anyone the right to call you a freak.”

“What’s wrong about being a freak anyway? Daddy calls you a freak all the time. It just means I'm different and you say nothing is wrong with that.”

“And you’re right, baby.”

“And that bitch Bethany should mind her own business.”

“Sumiko! Geez, what am I going to do with you…”

Nora giggled silently. She waited for Thompson to come back and kept on smiling.

 

The end… _or is it???_

::: :::

A/N: _No, it really is the end of this story, but I have to tell you guys that in the French version, I’ve written several timestamp happening between the epilogue of Sam and Dean getting rid of the curse and the “seven years later” post epilogue. Those timestamp follow the Campbell family, we get to know more about Angie’s powers and the way the girls consider their fathers, if they know anything about the supernatural world and the way they were born.  
I won’t spoil anything, though, but I have the firm intention of writing those timestamps. That’s why I remained voluntarily vague in the “seven years later” epilogue, and used an outsider POV.  
Thanks again for reading!  
<3  
Petite Étoile_


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